


The Emptiness of Light and the Debt of Fear

by dandelion_wishes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Bear men, Christmas Fluff, Forgiveness, Letters, M/M, Reconciliation, Recovery, Reunions, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Sickness, Smoking, Stubborn, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Winston - Freeform, lots of darkness, lots of flannel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelion_wishes/pseuds/dandelion_wishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Alaska,where flannel is a fashion staple, Will with quiet reflection has built a new life. Hannibal has found his favorite profiler even though he changed his name falling off the grid. Can Hannibal lure Will back to Baltimore? or will he have to hunt and capture him instead? Either way..Will will pay off his debt of fear. A Season2 Au.</p>
<p>Follow up to the short fics  Live a Long Time and Done.  It is not necessary to read the other two works to follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the much requested continuation of Live a Long Time. Hopefully this will be as tasty as the first two. No beta...yada yada.. Enjoy

For six months out of the year the sun is scant if not totally gone from the sky. Will sits looking out the window at the dense forest beside his cabin. He can see the snow and ice sparkling on the trees from the light of his window. Animals dart from shadow to shadow. His hands are wrapped the white ceramic mug the found in the cabin when he moved in almost a year ago. His body has settled in a relaxed state. His limbs felt settled like an old house. Some creaking and groaning at first then sinking in on itself. Will’s blue eyes are unfocused as his mind lazily moves from thought to thought.Will blinks slowly when his eyes begin to burn.   


His mind always starts with a list of tasks he needs to accomplish for the day. His mind is easily distracted today however,it flits from subject to feelings.Will feels a tingle on his scalp.A warning that something or someone is coming to the area. Will isn’t sure which. From there his thoughts have tended to glen over memories, a regular occurrence since leaving Wolf Trapp, until he finds one that he feels he needs to pick open again. Will never could leave a scab alone always picking at until it bleeds again. His hand moves over a scab on his hand from a burn at the garage. Fingers ghosts over it tingling with the desire to feel the hard skin under his fingernails but no not this time.

 

He revisits the past frequently. At first it was an exercise to see if he could recover past memories that had been buried  by Hannibal. Will imagines they are treasure hidden  in the silk bed underneath his river of memory. Will would dip a hand in grabbing silk looking for clues. Will only successfully finding a nugget here and there.

 

After several months of this, the ex profiler turned his mind toward actions and words spoken by his “friend”. Will analysis ever turn, every reaction and every interaction between himself and the cannibal. It’s like rereading a book or watching a movie that’s ending caught you by surprise. He looks for all the foreshadowing and clues he missed the first time.Then Will berates himself for not seeing it because Hannibal’s was almost begging him to see the psychiatrist as he is  truly. It doesn’t matter that everyone was fooled by Lecter. It doesn't matter to Will his brain was on fire. No he is suppose the guru of understanding killers. To say his professional ego had not been affected by this would be shortsighted.

 

The latest thing Will has been delving into is his feelings.With all his empathy, strong intuitions and reading people’s intents he is woefully detached from his own feelings.Will is so caught up in avoiding becoming the killers he profiled he pushed his feeling away.

 

Will has all this understanding for everyone but himself. The ex profiler learned along time ago, people can’t do what he can. They aren’t as empathic as he is. They can’t or don’t put themselves into other people’s mindsets readily and easily. Most people don’t understand him because it is beyond them. That’s not how they think. So Will is left with many one sided relationships. He never feels fully understood or accepted in his relationships.. until Hannibal that is.

 

All the feelings that he damned up began to bleed out. They rose filling all the empty spaces in Will’s mind.The damn leak could not be stopped by the dutch boy’s finger. It broke the day Will walked away from everything.

 

The ex profiler felt guilty for leaving Alana and Jack in the lurch so to speak. He knew they would be worried about him. Those feeling persist even now but  Will had made up his mind. When he makes up his mind it seems like his course is set no matter what consequences he sees coming. Will  always sees the end. In every relationship he has, the empath sees the end of it,except for Hannibal.  It seems the cannibal is always the expectation in Will’s world.

 

The outcome with Hannibal was a total surprise to him. Instead of being a surprise happy ending it turned into betrayal and deception. A game from the older man he thought..felt..may actually...understand or at least accept Will. Naive till the end.A bitter taste left in his mouth.

 

On the flip side to all these justified bitter angry feeling, Will  understands why Hannibal did what the did. His anger has softened over the months. Unfortunately this was something Will seemed to fall into all his life..justified.anger..understanding..forgiveness...forgetting..then being taken advantage of again.

 

The ex profiler understands the cannibal has been hiding in plain sight for years. Hannibal being a highly intelligent serial killer would follow his investigation with rapt attention. When Will begins to suspect Hannibal, the cannibal had to act. Will was the most obvious patsy. Hannibal could manipulate his non patient easily. Will was lonely, isolated,self loathing, starved for acknowledgement and care. The fact he had encephalitis, that the cannibal did nothing to help cure, was just too tempting to a hedonist like Hannibal. Perfect.

 

Easy to manipulate by adding the distractions from his burning brain, bringing Will’s focus away from the case to something else. Will gave him access to his home where the man could plant evidence. Abigail’s ear was the crud de gra to convince Will, himself, he had crossed the line.

 

Will gets it. After all these  months, his feeling of anger have  congealed into bitter hurt. Bitter because of all his mistakes and  his shortsightedness. His hurt stemming from not so much the betrayal but the loss of a friend. Will had so few. Once you were a friend, it was a lifetime membership. Will missed their in depth conversations, his cooking...yes, even if he knows what the meat is...the man could cook a great meal. The ex profiler misses having someone he could call when the needs someone to listen to what he has to say without judgement. He misses the cannibals calm presence. Will misses Hannibal and he absolutely hates himself for it. It took almost a year to admit it to himself. But he won’t ever let anyone else know this secret truth about himself. Not again..

 

Will has become even more closed off since arriving in Alaska. He’s not even adopted a dog. The ex profiler wanted a new beginning away from his past life, past mistakes.He has denied himself this companionship he has had for many of his adult years. The ex profiler has been reconsidering this decision for a few weeks now. It’ll take him a few months longer to talk himself into it.His cabin has one room. Which is fine with Will but would limit the number of animals to adopt. Will stretches his legs curving his back closing his eyes. He straightens up his eyes finally leaving the dark sky. It’s eight in the morning but the sky looks like midnight. At least he can see the stars he thinks.

 

At first the ex profiler thought the long hours of darkness would bother him but he found a familiar feeling of comfort in it. The long hours of sunlight,in summer, is something different. Will found an odd emptiness in the light. He fills it with fishing, hiking,gardening and other daylight activities. When the hours indicate the time most people are sleeping, the light becomes oppressive. The ex profiler's insomnia was in full swing with his first exposure to the months of daylight. In fact, he spent three days without sleep. Will didn’t realize what was happening to him. He thought the encephalitis had returned in full force when the saw Abigail hanging on a rack of antlers. It wasn’t until his boss Butch, ask him how he was dealing with the situation. Then it hit Will full force what had happened. His biology unused to the long hours of sunlight went into overdrive. Will went out that day and bought some over the counter sleeping pills. Thank God it was the weekend because he slept for two days straight.

 

Will groaned getting up to head to work. There are a few orders to work on but the spring and summer brought more work. Will is paid by the engine he fixes or works on. He has a small side business in the spring and summer where he sells his lures the makes. During the long hours of the winter, he has found time to work on them. The extras he makes have sold very well to tourist and some of the locals. His money has been stretched thin these past few months. The ex profiler has been skating back and forth between whether or not take a job offer from the local sheriff. After Will had give some insights on a local homicide to the understaffed sheriff office, it had resulted in a quick subsequent arrest of the killer.Sheriff Robertson approached him with a job offer.

* * *

  _Will sits in the small diner warming his hands as they hold a ceramic mug of coffee. The gray sky seemed closer to the surface than usual. The murmurs of the other patrons, along with the warm atmosphere of the establishment lulls him into further into his mind._

_Will takes a sip of coffee when the feels the booth seat across him has someone sitting in it. Will feels a twinge of irritation from the intrusion of his thought and space.His eyes shift to the woman across from him. She is wearing a sheriff’s uniform. She has dark hair that is graying and facial features that could be taken for Asian or Native American._

_Sheriff Shila Robinson is quick witted and friendly. She often reminds Will of Beverly. It’s probably the main reason he gave the young sheriff his insights._

_“Morning Liam. How are you?”_

_“Mornin’ sheriff. Pensive.How are you?”_

_“Umm..cold.” she smiles_

_“What can I do you for?”_

_“That’s what I like about you Moffit. No chit chat just to the point.” she teases smiling._

_“Well..I have been told i am a man of few words.” he gives her a brief moment of eye contact. Her eyes are a warm brown while his a clear blue this morning._

_The sheriff clears her thought shifting nervously. She opens her mouth before she says anything, Will interrupts her._

_“The answer is no.”_

  _He takes another sip then cracks his neck._

_“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”_

_“Something to do with police work.”_

_“Yes. But not how you think.”_

_“Enlighten me then.”_

_“We..I really appreciate the help you gave on the last investigation. Your experience has invaluable. I am not asking you to become a deputy or anything. I would like you teach us."_

_"Teach you what?"_

**_Ten clues your friend might be a serial killer? he snarks in his head._ **

_"Investigative technique, profiling, anything that will help us solve crimes. We deal with petty crimes mostly. The department has very few officers with any real experience. You have more homicide experience than the whole department."_

_Will leans his head on his fist looking at the booth past her_ _shoulder. He sighs. This how they reel him in. He wants to help them have their own sights. They would benefit from his experience in the field._

_I'm socially inept. if you have noticed. What makes you think I can teach?"_

_"Well that describes over half the population in this area Liam. Hell most people come here are running away or trying to make a new start. You're odd..but not the only one."_

_Will laughs a genuine laugh._

 " _Well thanks for that."_

  _"Anytime. I am here to serve."_

_Shia smiles back._

  _"Listen I gotta go. Think about it. You could earn some extra income. Not a fortune but enough to keep in you that cheap shit you drink."_

_"It's rude to make fun of a man being frugal."_

__The sheriff slides out giving Will a smile before she heads out the door._ _

* * *

  
Will pulls on his parka, hat and gloves. The ex profiler grabs his keys making sure he has his wallet as he locks his door. He drives his old jeep into work. The work is a couple of easy repairs that he finishes before noon. With no other work coming in Will heads to the local grocery store to pick up a few necessities.

 

As the walks down the street, he finds his footsteps slow to a stop. A few feet ahead, Will swears he is hallucinating Hannibal Lecter. The doctor is dressed warmly in parka, jeans and boots. The cannibal has a small smile of amusement on his face. Will stands there desperately trying to decide what he should do or if this is even real. Right now he feels detached from his body. Everything has slowed down like a broken clock Hannibal had so often had him daw. The thought makes Will’s insides feel prickly.The ex profiler is bombarded by the anger and betrayal that are as strong as they were months ago. _’ Maybe  I should see a therapist’_ he snarks in his head. Hannibal takes a step forward.

 

Will feels a hand land hard on his shoulder shaking him slightly. The ex profiler literally jumps and his head whips toward the assailant. It’s Ben Thomas. A six foot tall two hundred pound barrel chested trucker. The man  has red hair and a bushy beard. Will thinks the  man would have made a great Viking. The trucker always has a smile on his face and twinkle in his green eyes.

Ben is dressed like Paul Bunyan, a look Will appreciate because it’s his style as well. To be fair it’s more than half the population of Alaska style. Ben is loud boisterous man who for some reason has taken a shine to Will. The trucker  always makes a point to see Will and buy him a drink when he is home. Will glares at Ben. The other man laughs clapping Will on the shoulder physically jarring him to move to keep from falling.

 

“Shit Laim! Did I scare you? You look like you could have pissed your underoos.”

 

“You’re so fucking lucky Benjamin that I ain’t carryin’ today! I’d shot your head off!”

 

Will takes a huge breath rubbing his chest from the emotional fright. The ducks out of the grip of the other man rubbing his shoulder for the good natured petting.

 

“Oooo..you are mad..you used the full name. Well I’ll buy you lunch to go along with your drink for restitution for the truma.How about that?”

 

“I don’t put out on the first date.”

__  
_ _

It takes Ben a beat to reply. “Good to know.”

__  
_ _

Will looks where Hannibal was standing. He’s not there but Will didn’t expect him to be. He looks back at Ben nodding his head. Ben throws his arm around Will’s shoulders as the begins to tell him about his latest adventure. They walk in the direction of the bar and grill.

_  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Will removes his coat and knit hat as soon as he and Ben enter the bar and grill. The layout is rustic with ample room for booths and tables. Pool tables are scattered throughout the back rooms with dart boards lining the wooden walls pockmarked from darts not making the board. The actual bar runs almost the full length of the main room. The decor is what some would call vintage, others think of it as just junk collecting dust from each of the previous owners.The bar and grill serves as gathering space for most of it’s citizens since it was opened sometime in the 1800’s by the Russians. The basic structure of the building is still the same but with added space, modern  conveniences and technology that makes  it’s way north eventually.

 

The two men find a booth that has been abandoned by the previous patrons. A waitress comes by with a wash cloth leaning in as she cleans the table. She gives Will a in depth look at all her assets with her long blonde hair and big smile. Her name is Mandy. She’s probably in her late twenties, Will guesses. Her features are little worn from a hard life but still have a youthful glow. Mandy a recent migrant has found being one of the few women in the area to be an advantage. One she takes every chance she gets to better her tips.

 

“Hey Mandy!” Ben says smiling up at her.

 

Will merely nods in greeting. She looks at both men before deciding that Ben is worth her time to flirt with.

 

“Hey Papa Bear! How long have you been in town.”

 

“Oh just pulled in about a couple hours ago.”

 

“Well you picked a good day to come into town. Bert, here is giving everyone a free pitcher of beer and two rounds on the house. so what it will be guys. She drapes her arm casually on the booth ledge above Ben’s seat.

 

“What?! Bert?  That man is so tight he could get a diamond from coal out of his ass he’s so tight? Someone die? DId the bastard win the lottery?” Ben laughs hitting the table with a large paw of a hand. Will smiles but he feels the same  warning prickling in the back of his skull that there is a storm ahead.

 

“Naah. He’s been really tightlipped about it.” Mandy says in a stage whisper leaning over the table to get closer to Ben. Will smiles and shakes his head when he sees Ben’s breath hitch.

 

“Rumor has it some major deal has come in and he’s heading to Florida to retire.”

 

“That’s a change of pace.” states Will looking around the bar watching the patrons drink. The bar seemed louder than normal.

 

“You said it handsome. So guys, what will it be?” she posies her pencil on her pad popping her gum.

 

“Ummm..Well  for the beer the best Bert will give up. For my rounds I want boilermakers. I plan on feeling good tonight.” the burly man slaps and rubs his hands together in delight.” Oh yeah...give me a burger and some fries too.”

 

Will laughs with a toothy smile. “I’ll have a whiskey and the same..burger and fries.” he gestures toward Ben.

 

“Alright boys. I’ll be back shortly with your drinks.” she sashays away toward the bar.

 

Ben’s eyes follows her until he turns them back to Will. His friend is looking off in the distance at the bar entrance. Will is daring Lecter to walk through that door. He wants the man to prove he’s not some hallucination.

 

“Hey..who was that guy you were looking at earlier. You look like the devil himself was coming for you.”

 

“Oh did you see him?”

 

“Yea. Is he suppose to be invisible?”

 

Will chuckles shakes his head no. “I was sick for awhile. I had hallucinations before I diagnosed. I thought I was plum outta my head they were so real. When I was a kid I always thought I’d see things move out the corner of eye. We southerners love our haunted history and tales of woe. Anyway..There was an old lady who lived down da street. She say ‘Son you got the sight.’ after I told her I kept seeing dark shadows move around her house.”

 

Will laughs as the watches Ben’s eyes grow as big as his toothy grin.

 

“What did your parents think?”

 

“My daddy..he’d roll his eyes, when I told him, saying ‘Don pay her no mind,son. She’s just testin’ her act on you ‘fore she gives it to them yankee tourist. I don’t cotton to no voodoo talk, Ain’t right.”

 

Ben nods in understanding. Mandy appears out of nowhere with their pitcher of beer, empty mugs and their drink order. After she leaves they sit drinking in companionable silence for a while before they move on it to small talk. Will likes the burly man. Ben tends to dominate the conversation and is not offended if Will only makes a few comments. Will’s eyes are scanning the bar interior for any sign Hannibal maybe there..somewhere lurking. Everytime the door opens his blue eyes move to it. The only people Will sees are people from the area.

 

Mandy returns with their orders of food. Flirting with Ben who is absorbed in her charms. After she leaves he looks over at Will.

 

“Are you looking for your friend?” he asks.

 

Will’s eyes fall back to the truckers chest.Will tilts his whiskey back hissing in a breath to battle the burn of the drink as it slides over his tongue washing down his throat.

 

“Kinda.I am not sure if we were really friends even. It’s complicated.” Will finally huffs out taking a bite of his hamburger.

 

“Big falling out? What he do?”

 

“Why do you think he did something? It could have been me.” Will raises a curious eyebrow. He’s always been judged as the guilty party when any relationship ends. Sometimes he’s the judge who sentences himself to a sentence of isolation when it all falls apart. Looking back over his life, Will suspects he may not have been punishing himself with isolation. It was more like time to lick wounds and fortifying walls.

 

“Could be you but….I saw how you looked at him and how he looked at you.”

 

Both of Will’s eyebrows go up and he tilts his head to the side. His hand holding a greasy napkin motions for Ben to continue, as the continues to chews the fries the popped in his mouth a mere moment ago.

 

“He looked like the was happy to see you. Almost like a longing. You looked like you would have bolted if you weren’t glued to the spot. So…”

 

“So?”

 

The trucker looks at the ex profiler with a rare seriousness. Will knows he’s not trying to be nosy. He knows Ben is concerned about Will. For some reason, the trucker takes a real interest in Will’s welfare. At first the ex profiler chafed under the kindness of the trucker. It took a couple of months and friendly persistants from Ben for Will to warm up.

 

Will was left  in such a vulnerable emotional state after Hannibal. He doesn’t blame the serial killer for his vulnerable state. He always runs the risk of that extreme sensitivity, if he fails to monitor what he is taking into his mind. Nope, that he  did  all to himself. 

 

Except, the ex profiler felt safe with Hannibal more than anyone else. So much so that, Will  let that mother fucker serial killer know that part of himself he keeps secret. A part that he normally kept locked away. To be vulnerable with another means trust was there. It is a give and take of earning and receiving small bits of the puzzle that is us. Hannibal used that trust to become an emotional terrorist. 

 

The  serial killer maneuvered and manipulated Will to see what the ex profiler would do. Hannibal used words like guilt,obligation, protection, daughter and family...these words that mean so much to Will but was a mere smoke screen for Hannibal. It was the perfect decoy to use with Will. 

 

Will felt immense guilt when he left Abigail an orphan, when he  killed her father. However it was Hannibal who introduced the idea of her as a daughter to Will and himself. A shared responsibility and experience to draw Will in so close he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Before this whole seduction for intimacy using  the lure of a family, Will’s always thought of his immediate family was his dogs.. The one he had adopted into existence. The family Will nurtured into being something real .

 

He abandoned them for the fountain of intimate understanding. He  thought if he drunk from the mythical cup of human love and fidelity, Will Graham could have one of his deepest kept desires for  a  family. Then Will Graham would become a real boy that could be accepted and loved. What a fucking pipe dream! This little grain of truth has needled Will for months now.It rears it’s ugly head when the ex profiler drinks too much or broods too much...which to be honest seems to be all the fucking time.

 

Will was so transparent that Hannibal dangled what he wanted in front of him. Hannibal knows how to bait and lure better than any fisherman, Will has ever know.Because,after Will finally came to terms with Abigail as a daughter that he wanted to take care of and protect. He also accepted that she was a killer, Hannibal took it all the way by killing her.  For no real reason except he could and he found it amusing. The fact the fucking asshole shoved  her ear down his throat, raises his hackles till this day.

 

All this play’s in Will’s mind everyday. The intense emotions must run across his face because, Ben leaves the conversation to float dead in the water. The trucker pours them both another beer as he launches into a story about crossing a river of ice. Will is grateful for the turn in conversation. The ex profiler lets the whiskey and beer relax him into the numbness the alcohol brings with it.

 

Lunch was finished an hour ago but Ben and Will have two more rounds of drinks. Will’s face feels flushed his limbs relaxed. The memory of seeing Hannibal in front of him slips into the back of his mind. He tells Ben a couple of fishing stories and about his dogs.In the spring the men discuss taking a camping and fishing trip. The trucker has a some relative that has property with a wide stream on it.

 

When Mandy returns with their bill, she flirts with the trucker some more.Will attention drifts to the bathroom’s hallway. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. His scalp tingles. Standing at the entrance in a pink parka is Abigail. If not her, than someone that looks like her twin. She is looking directly at Will. She gives a sly smile and wiggles her fingers in greeting.

 

Will is vaguely aware of Ben speaking to him as he rises from his seat nearly knocking over the remaining pitcher of beer. He stumbles out of the booth heading toward the bathrooms. The trucker’s voice becomes faint. Will’s attention is lost from Abagail as he bumps into a table and then another patron. The ex profiler mumbles an apology, when he arrives at the hallway Abigail is gone. Will huffs out exasperation as the hallway tilts. Maybe he should have taken things slower,he places a unsteady hand on to the wall. The ex profiler uses the wall to make into the men’s bathroom. Will might as well, since he’s there, because no one buys beer they just rent it for a while.

 

He is amazed that he is able to zip his fly without falling into the urinal. Will washes his hands, contemplating if splashing his face with cold water would help him to sobriety sooner than later.The ex profiler dries his hands before falling into the bathroom door to exit into the hall. He leans on the opposite wall looking at the booth he was sitting in with Ben. The trucker looks to be talking with someone sitting in his spot.

 

‘Well that’s rude.” he quips in his mind. Will makes his way back to the booth.He slides in to sit beside Ben. Ben laughs as he tries to slide over before Will lands in his lap. The ex profiler  eyes slide up to look into the face of not only Hannibal Lecter but beside him is Abigail fucking alive Hobbs.

 

All the voices dim in the background.Ben says he was just talking to these new residents. Will’s face is stoic as he picks up his beer mug to take another drink. Hannibal grabs his wrist preventing the ex profiler from bringing the mug to his lips.

 

Will hears Ben make an outraged noise in protest for his friend. Abigail's eyes widen as she holds her breath. Her eyes can’t settle on one particular man, the air thick with tension.

 

“I think you’ve had enough, don’t you? You can barely stand, William.”

 

Will licks his lips tugging his arm trying to not slosh the remainder of the beer on the table. He then tilts his arm down, so he can place the mug on the table. Hannibal leans back into his seat with a satisfied smile on his lips.

 

Will simply shrugs sits back. As he does he swipes Ben’s nearly full mug chugging half of it down. He knows he is going to regret this in the morning..hell maybe in just a few minutes, but to see Hannibal’s smirk turn into grimace is worth it.Will looks over at Ben.

 

“Sorry. I was thirsty. Besides..” he burps into his fist trying to keep it inside his mouth. “I ain’t got nothin’ catchin’ or nothin a little penicillin won’t cure.”

 

He smiles as Ben pats his on the back nodding his head in understanding.

 

“Not a problem, Will. I’d introduce you but I guess you know those two.” Ben looks he wants to add, ‘I’m sorry’ to that statement.

 

“Yea. Unfortunately I do. I’m going to head out. Thanks for lunch.”

 

Will scoots across the seat. The grabs his coat and pulls on his knit cap. He turns to leave but reconsiders. He shouldn’t say anything since he has consumed too much alcohol. He shouldn’t speak because he feels old anger and bitterness lay on the tip of his tongue. He shouldn’t say anything until he has thought about what exactly he is feeling, seeing his tormentor and his “dead” surrogate daughter without any warning. He shouldn’t but Will is because he has held his tongue once too many times. He is going to refuse to fucking feel. He will refuse to feel regret or remorse from here on out. So he turns slowly to the couple in the opposite bench.

 

The ex profiler clears his throat. He looks at Hannibal and then Abigail. Will speaks to the teenager.

 

“I am glad that you are alive and well.You seem to be navigating and thriving under Lecter’s tutelage. But a word of warning, You are nothing but a pawn to him. A means to an end...just like you were to your father. I know you did what you did to survive. But don’t think for one moment, I don’t know that you enjoyed it. That you still enjoy it. Don’t act like that man there has forced you into anything or manipulated you. I don’t fucking believe it. Like you don’t believe I could have ever be a father to you.”

 

Abigail eyes water as she holds in her sob. Ben looks between the two. Hannibal crosses his arms over his chest.

 

Ben looks at Will.”Dude..Will that’s harsh.don’t you think?”

 

Hannibal interjects, saying” Don’t fixate your  angry with me, William, on  Abigail.”

 

Will sways pointing his finger first at Ben. “You don’t know all the fucking story, so back off.”

 

Then he points at Lecter with an amused snarl on his face because he knows the finger bothers the well mannered man.

 

“ I am saying the truth and you know it. Besides if I am going to hurt you, I’ll just hurt the ones you love. That’s your philosophy ain’t? That’s what you do? But hey I learned from the best...but..you're right I shouldn’t hurt her because I’m mad at you. You know why? ‘cuse you don’t give a shit about anyone but your pompous narcissistic self. If you don’t like how I’m talking to you and Abigail there, don’t fucking talking to me...again..ever..do you hear me?”

 

Will turns suddenly heading out the door before he finds himself with a  nose full of blood because he  verbally attacked Hannibal. The ex profiler  knows he’d lose in a fight but he doesn’t feel the need to beaten up to prove his point. Will heads to the house. It doesn’t strike him till later the next day that Ben spoke his real name yesterday.

* * *

 

“Mr Thomas you failed to mention Will’s drinking problem.”

 

Hannibal’s eyes glint at the private investigator in front of him. He hired the man’s  agency almost a year ago to locate Will. Hannibal requested one of the detective's stay to monitor William after he was located. The psychiatrist cast a glance at Abigail who is wiping her eyes with a napkin. She must feel his attention on her because she looks at him.

 

“I’m fine, really.” she gives a weak smile.

 

Hannibal nods and turns his attention back to Ben. Ben sighs looking around the bar.

 

“You mentioned that he was a heavy drinker before he moved here. Everyone drinks here to keep warm and pass the time. I, personally, have not seen Mr Graham this intoxicated before. Maybe your appearance has triggered his excessive drinking?”

 

Ben and Hannibal lock eyes for a few moments before the p.i. breaks it.

 

“That may be the case. I still you need to keep him under surveillance until further notice. Good day Mr Thomas.”

 

Ben nods in understanding. Hannibal and Abigail leave without further conversation. One making changes in his plan and the other licking her wounds.

  
  


 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

There are two people in everyone, Will believes. The one you allow people to see and your authentic self that monopolizes the conversation in your head. The one that chants that you are a loser just like your dad always said. Or one that  spews racists remarks silently as that person smiles being politically correct in their actions and speech.The individual who is loving to their spouse but finds sexual excitement through unorthodox means.Or the individual who plays the part of the good friend who is actually the cannibalistic serial killer you’ve been hunting.

 

Will can easily suss out the hidden self quickly. His eyes often have the flash of insight that makes people nervous. They are afraid Will is going to expose all their hidden actions, feelings and agenda. The secret desires, people only take out when they lock the door and windows. All the curtains are drawn and they still look around, even if  they are very much alone, before they take their hidden vices and pleasures out of the box.

 

Will has his own box of secrets. His  are not as interesting as Tattletale.com would have their readers believing. But he has them nevertheless. Will’s empathy makes not only understanding the secrets people keep but why they keep them hidden. He has no desire to expose anyone’s secrets.

 

Will should have expected Ben was somehow linked to Lecter. He knew..he knew something was off about the man but Will honestly thought it was because the guy is bisexual. The ex profiler felt deception but all of Ben’s actions and emotions were genuine. Will noticed that Ben looked at him the way the ogles Mandy.Will’s gotten lazy while he has been here.Is the ever going to have a friend that is real without the influence of the psychiatrist. The ex profiler wants to feel safe with someone new without questioning if they are using him. The feeling makes Will’s heart clench in sorrow.

 

The ex profiler let his guard down and look what happened. Hannibal.He wants to be left alone that’s the plain and simple truth of the matter. With Hannibal around that proves to be near impossible. His fascination with Will’s dark impulses are to hard for the man to resist.

 

So, Will waits to see what Hannibal will do to bring him once again under his influence.Will doesn't have to wait long.

* * *

 

Three days later after seeing Hannibal and Abigail in the bar, Will is forced back into town.He needs supplies. The ex profiler heads into the bar first. Might as well face the music and have lunch while he is at it.Will walks into the dimly lit bar and grill. There are men outside working on the sign. Inside there a few patrons milling around. It’s rather early for lunch so the crowd has yet to form. Will finds a booth sitting down looking at the menu.

 

He sees a bowl of stew placed in front of him along with a glass of water. The ex profiler  looks up to see Mandy smiling at him.

 

“Before you say anything.” she says putting her hand up to signal quiet. “The cook is trying out some recipes. He ‘s picking random people to try it free of charge. Congrats..” she smirks.

 

Will’s eyebrows shoot up. ” Um.. Okay..thanks..I do want a whiskey.”

 

Mandy smiles before she heads toward the bar. Will picks up a spoon dipping into the thick stew. He blows in it before taking a nibble. It smells and taste wonderful. His stomach feels satisfied with the first bite.

 

As he eats someone slides in the seat across from him.

 

“I don’t recall asking you to seat.” he says not looking at Ben.

 

“You didn’t and I didn’t ask.” Ben replies

 

“How long?”

 

“How long what?”

 

“How long have you worked for Hannibal Lecter? Are you even a trucker?”

 

Ben looks down. Will can feel how uncomfortable he is with this line of conversation. Good.

 

“For almost a year now.”

 

Will looks up in mid bite. The ex profiler swallows hard and takes a drink.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yea. He hired my employer to locate you. Then he wanted someone to monitor your health and well being, that’s how Dr Lecter put it. I was a trucker for years before I went into the bounty hunter business and then became a pi. I took some small trucking routes to pass the time. You're a full time assignment.”

 

Will takes a couple more bites before turning his attention back to Ben.

 

“You know I understand you watching me as part of your job. Okay. What I don’t get is why you pretended to be a friend.”

 

Will pushes the bowl away wiping his lips with a napkin. His appetite has suddenly left him. The ex profiler actually looks Ben in the eyes as he reads his reaction. The empath feels guilt, reluctance and some genuine affection rolling off the burly man. He knows the next words out the trucker’s mouth will be the truth.

 

“Partly because I wondered why you were worth spending all the money on to locate and then monitor.The other part was an accident. I was following you when your jeep broke down. I’m not a monster. I’m not going to let you sit beside the road in sub zero temperature to keep my cover. So I improvised. Though believe or not, I enjoy are conversations. I like you as a person Will.”

 

Will nods looking around the bar.

 

“I mean it. I am being honest.”

 

Will looks in Ben’s direction.

 

“I know, Ben. You are sincere, doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Is your name Ben?”

 

“Yep..'friad so. I am not very creative on the fly.”

 

Mandy walks carrying a mug full of beer putting in front of Ben. Will frowns looking at the waitress. She smiles picking up the half empty bowl of stew. The ex profiler sense she is uneasy about something. She’s trying to exude casualness, to the untrained she would be successful but she can’t fool Will.

 

“How was it? You didn’t finish it.”

 

“It was good. I was full, so I quit. Where is my whiskey, Mandy?”

 

Will says her name to gain her attention but instead of looking at Will, she ducks her head looking at the bowl in her hands.

 

“Oh that..let me get this back to kitchen then I’ll talk to Milton.”

 

She hurries away practically throwing the bowl through the open window to the kitchen.Will watches her go behind the bar whispering to the bartender, Milton. Milton has been the bartender for years. Some joke he was there for the original opening. He’s a portly man with long white hair and a beard. Needless to say, during the month of December he is in high demand as he dresses up as Saint Nick.

 

Milton looks between her and Will. Will’s mouth sets. He looks at Ben, who is also watching the scene.

 

“Do you know anything about what’s going on?”

 

Ben shrugs picking his mug.

 

“I think I have an idea but I hope I’m wrong.”

 

Then he takes a large gulp of beer. Wiping his hand across his mouth then tugging his hand down wringing out any beer that may have split into the hair. Will’s eyes narrow but before he can speak Milton comes over. His hands go behind his back and he peers at Will over his bifocals. ‘This can’t be good.’ Will thinks as MIlton tries to give an air of fatherly authority.

 

“Hey Liam.”

 

“Hey Milt. Is there a problem?”

 

The empath sees Mandy duck back into the kitchen. ‘Do they think I have a gun or something?’ Will wonders to himself.

 

“I’m Okay.Um...the bar and grill has come under new management…”

 

Will’s fills the tingle of adrenaline plunge from his neck to his stomach. He nods trying to seem encouraging.

 

“And..and..before I..or anyone here actually..can serve you alcohol..you have to bring us a doctor’s note.”

 

“A what?”

 

“A doctor’s note.”

 

“You gotta be shittin’ me.”

 

“No I shit you not. Sorry..Liam.”

 

“I suppose I am the only one, am I right?”

 

Milton hums in agreement as he rocks back and forth on his feet. Will looks over at Ben who is looking every where but in his direction as he gulps down the rest of his beer.

 

“But the good news is..all your meals are free.” Milton tries to smile but he looks like he is in serious pain.

 

Will clears his throat then softly where Milton barely hears him, he whispers. “Who is the new owner?”

 

“Um...Hobbs..an Abbey Hobbs.”

 

Will smacks his hand so hard against the table Ben and Milton jump along with the empty mug.

 

“‘Cause that makes all the sense in the world! A teenager! A fucking teenager! Who can’t drink..owns a bar. But me.. a man of legal drinking age has to have a fucking!..doctor’s note!…”

 

Will seethes his face flushed. He’s breathing hard. Milton looks like he is going to bolt at any moment. Ben gives a sympathetic look  for Will’s humiliation at being singled out like this..as though he is incapable of taking care of himself or making a sound decision. A fucking doctor’s note! Will can guess who the fuck  knows is the new physician in town.

 

Will looks down at his stinging palm. He takes a deep breath. This is no time to prove Hannibal right. That he is unstable. That he needs supervision.

 

“Okay. I understand Milton. I appreciate you telling me this.”

 

“Are you Okay Liam?”

 

“Yes...I’ll be fine.”

 

“We told them..the new owners..me and some of the others..that you never cause trouble or not pay your tab. But…”Milton shrugs for the lack of words.

 

Will waves his hand dismissively.Looking at Milton the says,. “Thanks..I understand. you can’t risk your job over me. I get it.”

 

Milton nods before turning away heading over back to the bar. Will glares at Ben.

 

“Does he not know there is a grocery store and liquor store here? How about the internet? Has he forgotten you can get anything over the internet?!”

 

“Well yea..if you had a computer.” Ben looks at Will then he turns red.

 

“I can get one.” Will grits out.

 

“There is something else you should know..”

 

“Oh goody! Tell me, I can’t wait.”

 

“They bought the liquor store and the grocery store. He realized it takes a while before deliveries arrive.”

 

“Of course..of course.. he bought them.Pretentious motherfucker! He must suspect, I don’t have enough money to move for awhile.”

 

Will suddenly gets up walking toward the door.

 

“Where are going?” he hears Ben ask.

 

“Well fucking follow me, that’s what you're paid for!”

 

Will slams open the door heading over to his jeep. He’s turning onto the street before Ben can catch up. Will drives over to the doctor’s office. If Hannibal wants to see him so badly. He’ll see him but he is not submitting to a physical with that man. Will slams the jeep door shut as he stomps into the office. There is no one in the waiting room or reception. Maybe the staff is at lunch. No matter, as Will walks through the door back to the examination rooms. The ex profiler hears classical music coming from behind a door.

 

Will takes out his Glock sliding it forward to chamber a bullet. He  clicks the safety off where he sees the red dot. “Red means dead” he murmurs. Something his dad taught him when he taught Will about firearm safety.The ex profiler would knock but he is sure Hannibal has smelt him coming. So he kicks in the door.Entering the room as he was trained to with his weapon up ready to shoot. Hannibal is sitting behind the desk. Looking as calm as if an armed man had not just slammed into his office. Will walks to Hannibal’s side. He  puts the gun flush to Hannibal’s temple.

 

“You wanted me here. Well here I am..Doc. Give me my note while your at it.”

 

Hannibal raises his hands. He doesn’t look at Will but speaks calmly.

 

“I can’t do that William. You need an exam first.”

 

“I don’t want one.I don’t need no fucking exam. If you’re going to torment me at least…. at least be a fucking human and let me have some kind of release at the end of the day.”

 

“You could exercise.”

 

“Are you fucking serious? Did you say exercise?! Really?!” Will sputters

 

Before Hannibal answers Will hears a quiet  click and a throat clearing. He cuts his eyes to the front of Hannibal’s desk. The ex profiler sees Sheriff Robertson with her weapon aiming at him. She looks shocked and worried.Will inwardly groans.

 

“Afternoon Sheriff.”

 

“Afternoon Liam..or should I say Will Graham?”

 

“I guess it doesn’t matter now what I call myself. I guess the job offer is off the table now.My weapon is registered by the way.”

 

“Yes..good..I don’t want to have to arrest you. If I do, then definitely there will be no job. But if you put the weapon on the floor,I can take it. If Dr Lecter doesn’t press charges, then we could just ignore this event.”

 

Will sees her weapon tremble just slightly. She has never had to fire her weapon except at the shooting range. This may be the first time she’s had to aim it at someone she knows.Will knows she will regret firing her weapon but she will not hesitate to. Will calculates..or more accurately, he knows that this would end very badly for him and her.For a brief moment he hesitates. He puts the Glock up in the air and bends slowly toward the floor. He  places it on the ground kicking it to her.

 

‘This went to hell in a handbag pretty quick.’ Will muses. I bet this is not what Lecter expected at all. At least the cannibal is entertained. Will is going to go home and kick his own ass for doing such an asinine thing. Now he not only looks like an alcoholic, going off the deep end for being denied his adult beverage of choice..because this goes so much deeper than that. Sheriff Robertson is remembering  all those articles about a certain unstable profiler. Fucking lovely.

 

Will watches as she lowers and holsters her weapon. She takes his from the floor. She empties the chamber taking out the magazine. The sheriff separates them by placing each in pocket of her coat.

 

“Will. Why don’t you have a seat before you fall over.” the smooth amused accented voice washes over him.

 

Will cuts his eyes to Hannibal and comes within a hair of giving him the finger.A very rude gesture indeed. Instead, he notices his breath is coming quick and shallow. The ex profiler feels light headed. In the moment, Will hadn’t even noticed the panic attack had started. He finds a chair by the wall sitting down placing his head in his hands. His breathing starts to even out.Will listens to the murmurs of the sheriff and Hannibal.

 

“Will you be alright here alone with him, Dr Lecter.”

 

“Yes. I’ll be fine. I was Will’s unofficial psychiatrist while he was working with the FBI. I am well acquainted with his emotional outbursts. I am sure he is feeling the affects of alcohol withdrawal which is affecting his judgement.”

 

“I am NOT an alcoholic.” Will says into his hands.

 

“Then explain why you have such an angry reaction to being denied a drink?”

 

“Because..I am a grown ass man. I can make my own decisions. If I want a drink, I’ll have one. If I don’t I won’t. I am not a child or a simpleton. I don’t  need monitoring! I am not mentally UNSTABLE!”

 

Will looks up to see the concern face of the sheriff and Hannibal’s amused one at his outburst. He holds up a placating hand.

 

“Sorry I yelled. I am frustrated over the treatment. Besides isn’t there a law where I have to be served?”

 

“Well the establishment is allowed to deny you alcohol if they fill you have had enough or are dangerous because of your state of intoxication. So technically, they can refuse to sell you any.”

 

Robertson shrugs. She is clearly torn in what to do and say between the two men. She’s not sure what all their history is but she wonders if it was more than doctor and patient. They act like they are ex lovers.Not her place..not her place..she thinks to herself.

 

“I do want to say..”she turns toward Will.” I do admire your work Mr Graham. It would be awesome to learn from you.”

 

“How long have you known who I am?”

 

“Well you looked familiar to me. So I googled you and found out your real name. I figured after everything that happened you wanted to start fresh.So I left it at that.”

 

“ Thank you. So that’s why you asked me to help with those scenes because you knew.”

 

“Well..yes..I did..to be perfectly honest. Wouldn't you, if you knew someone with your kind of skill set?”

 

“Yes.” Will sighs deep and heavy.

 

“I am going to go. Call me Dr Lecter. Mr Graham, I am going to hold your firearm for thirty days. After that time period you may pick up. If there is another incident of you pulling a weapon on someone, I will arrest you.”

 

“I understand Sheriff Robertson. Thanks for giving me a break.”

 

She turns heading out the door leaving the door open. Will stands putting on his knit cap.

 

“Are you leaving William.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Still stubborn and unpredictable it seems.” Hannibal smile touches his eyes.

 

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint you Dr Lecter.”

 

Will turns heading out the door through the waiting room. He passes the staff that has come in from lunch. There are whispers and stares which makes Will want to growl at them. The ex profiler wonders if he has enough in the bank for a laptop and internet.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Will lays on his couch his eyes following the pipe tobacco smoke up to the ceiling.As he looks up at the beams of his ceiling, he closes his eyes in exasperation. He’s looking for answers there. He only sees himself, or Hannibal depending on which eye he keeps closed, hanging by the neck from an overhead beam. No answers are forthcoming but there are several questions to be answered. Will inhales the tobacco listens to the pop of tobacco. His minds begins to slumber as his body relaxes.He hears something.He sits up as listens for the sound again.

 

The empath removes the pipe setting it in the ashtray to smolder.Scratch.Whine. Will’s eyes narrow. Was that a whine? He moves to the door quietly as he strains to hear anything else. Another scratch. Will opens the door to see...it that Winston? Will bends down to his knees as the snow covered canine walks into the room. He shakes the snow off his coat as his tongue lolls to the side.

 

A smiles breaks across the empath’s face as he pulls the animal closer. He rubs his head and then his hands over the dog’s body checking for starvation. He finds none. The dog looks very healthy and well groomed. 'Hannibal'  Will thinks.

 

He shakes his head. Is Winston a peace offering or another manipulation? Will sighs.He closes the door.He sits on the couch with the dog’s head resting in his lap as he finishes the bowl in his pipe. The smell of rich tobacco. whiskey and dog mixing together. It smells like home. It smells like Wolf Trap. It smells too much like the past he’s tried to start over from.

* * *

 

The next morning, Will takes Winston with him into town. Before work he heads to the bar. It’s not officially open but usually there is someone there taking inventory or something. Will pushes the door open to find a dimly lite room. He walks inside with the clacking of Winston’s nails beside him  on the wooden floor. He hears ‘Is there someone there?’ come from the back.

 

A few moments pass before Abigail comes into the bar area.

 

“Will?”

 

“I brought Winston back to you. He found his way to my shack.”

 

Will holds out the leash for her to take. She walks forward and tentatively takes the nylon cord.

 

“Don’t you want him back?”

 

The question has undertone of asking if Will wants Hannibal back. The innuendo is subtly implied so much so the empath muses if it is his own thoughts invading the conversation. Maybe Abigail is only asking about the dog.

 

“I would but I’m not sure if I have adequate space. I am sure you knew that or at least Hannibal did.” 

 

He shift his weight to lean against the bar. Will takes of his glasses rubbing away the condensation from the warmth inside the building. It’s such a pain the ass when glasses do that. Abigail watches a moment then she shrugs.

 

“I don’t know if Hannibal knows. I didn’t. He doesn’t tell me everything Will.”

 

“Really? Not a full fledged partner? Just an apprentice? or a lackey?”

 

She gives him a glare her mouth set. Will raises his eyebrows. He’s man enough to admit it warms his heart to see her miffed just a bit. He also feel a little bit of guilt laying her emotions bear like that. Will pushes that particular one away.

 

“I’m not sure what I am. Sometimes I feel like I am a daughter to him. Sometimes...nothing.” she looks down her eyes seem blank.

 

“Are you in harms way?” Will asks despite his best intentions of being apathetic. He can’t help himself apparently.

 

She smiles looking up at Will. He blushes. When he cares he can’t hide it.Never could in fact.

 

“I don't think so. But you never really know with Hannibal, do you?”

 

“You could leave. Go to college. Make a new life for yourself.”

 

“Like you?”

 

“Well...a better life.I’m sure Dr Lecter would give you a trust fund. You blend in better than I do.” Will smiles ruefully. 

 

The teenager fakes social acceptability better than he does. Abigail could actually have friends and a significant other in her life. She is young with Hannibal’s person suit training she would be undetectable.She could be successful.

 

Abigail's life flashes in the forefront of Will’s imagination. Her graduating college, laughing with friends. Then she would get a job and a boyfriend..or perhaps a girlfriend. He sees her getting married and having children. She goes to work and carpools the kids to and from activities. He sees her grow older, her children away at school, she is pursuing her long neglected hobby of hunting. Then he sees a hunting cabin and a young girl hanging on antlers. Will envisions holiday meals with an alternative meat source.

 

Air suddenly rushes back into his lungs as he remembered to breath once more. What the hell? He’s not had an episode like that for a  long time but it crept up in him.His vision clears showing a concerned Abigail. Will turns his head. He can’t  stand to look at her at the moment.Her hand reaches out for him but he flinches away stepping back. Winston whines softly.

 

“I gotta go to work.” he states scrambling to leave as quickly as he can.  

 

He hears Winston bark and whine as the door closes. A feeling in his chest constricts at the sound. He can’t let himself be manipulated by Hannibal anymore. Even if, the psychiatrist is giving him a beloved companion back.It would be too effortless for Will to let Hannibal have his way. The easy path is not always the right path, he admonishes himself when depression engulfs him.

* * *

 

Will clears out his jeep leaving only the emergency kit in the back. He’s heading for Nome to pick up some supplies. He doesn’t have the shakes because he hasn’t had a drink in a few days. But he does have a craving for it that’s plaguing his thoughts. The whiskey infused tobacco helps but he misses the warm liquid skating down his throat. The empath wants the numbness it also provides.  He is too  stubborn to let Hannibal win by asking for the “note”. Everything has a price. Will can’t afford the psychiatrist's prices anymore. He went emotionally and physically bankrupt last time.

 

With this cautionary tale still fresh in his mind, Will looks at his options the last few days. He calls the sheriff and says he’ll take the teaching job, if she still wants him. She is thrilled. They make plans to meet one night next week discussing topics for lectures. Luckily Will still remember most of his lectures. He also stored them on a cloud, so he can access them and modify them for their needs. 

 

He goes to the library, using their computer friends several addresses for liquor and computers stores. It’s time to shop for a cheap laptop for work and stockpile booze. Will determines he’s going to buy whiskey in bulk. There was more than one way to skin a cat. Will is just stubborn enough to make his way around Hannibal’s “concern” for his health.

 

Will is gathering up the addresses as well as miscellaneous items for his day trip. He is considering staying overnight when a loud knock makes him jump. His eyes harden out the intrusion and being annoyed he was startled.

 

He flings the door open to find the devil himself. Will crosses his arms and stares at Hannibal.

 

“It’s rude not to invite someone in, William.”

 

“I am aware of that.” he stands there in the doorway leaning on the door jam. He crosses his legs waiting on the psychiatrist to state his business. He clears his throat. He voice sounds scratchy and hoarse, where  just the other day it was normal. When the weather starts to get particularly nasty Will starts to lose his voice.

 

“So..”

 

“It’s cold out here.”

 

“I know. But the last time you were in  my home you planted EVIDENCE.” Will enunciates that last word loudly. “Forgive me, if I am paranoid who I let into my personal dwelling.”

 

“What if I keep my hands in my pockets?”

 

Will sighs and rolls his eyes. He’ll freeze to death before Hannibal will give in and leave.

 

“Fine. You’ve probably already have broken in anyways.”

 

Will walks in leaving Hannibal to follow and shut the door.

 

“Abigail said you thought I had foreknowledge about your house’s interior. But I actually did not. Believe it or not.”

 

Hannibal critically looking around the room. Will knows the man is taking in everything. Not only the small dimensions of his living area but his meager belongings.

 

“I see you have gone back to your frugal roots.”

 

“Sometimes growing up poor has it advantages. What do you want Hannibal?”

 

“You’ve dropped the Dr Lecter. Which doesn’t bother me in the least, by the way. I prefer my friends call me by my name.”

 

Will snorts motions to the couch for the man to sit. He takes the  worn out leather arm chair.

 

“Don’t mistake it for intimacy or being friendly. I just don’t hold you in high regard anymore. Titles are a way to show someone respect or admiration. I respect you as the killer you are but I have no admiration for you anymore.We are also NOT friends either. We are light years away from that now.”

 

Hannibal cocks his head to the side. “I see.”

 

Will is unsure if he catches irritation or resolve in his voice. Doesn't matter really. Will is still going to be honest with Hannibal there is no reason not to be.

 

“You sound disappointed that we are ‘light years away from that.’”

 

“I am Hannibal. Friends for me are hard won. It hurts to lose one but for once it’s not me to blame. That I do take comfort in. That’s it all rests on your shoulders.”

 

Will smiles smug as he crosses his legs and sits back into the chair. Hannibal smirks as well.

 

“What do you want Hannibal? I have plans for the day.”

 

“I am sorry to inconvenience you. I wanted to check up on you.”

 

“You wanted to see if I was a shaking mess going through withdrawal. Sorry to disappoint but I am fine. See not an alcoholic.”

 

“Maybe a functioning one.”

 

“No..still not an alcoholic. Thanks for your concern. Sorry you have to be going now.”

 

Hannibal makes no move to get up. He looks at Will like he is a transparent man. The empath shivers.

 

“How long have you been breathless? Have you noticed your voice changes when low pressure moves into the area?”

 

Will gives an exaggerated sigh. He gets up going to the kitchen area. He picks up a pot of coffee and his mug. He motions to Hannibal as if asking if he would like a cup. The psychiatrists shakes his head no. Will shrugs fills up his cup.He brings it back to where he was sitting.

 

He opens the drawer on the small end table. He takes out a scratched brass lighter, a pipe and tobacco wallet. He fills the pipe bowl with the moist rich tobacco and tamps it down with his finger. Then he places the pipe between his lips, biting it slightly as he ignites the lighter. He pulls the flame into the tobacco as he sucks in air. It finally catches fires. The smell of whiskey fills the air. Will’s eyes are focused on getting the tobacco lite to notice the way Hannibal looks at his lips wrapped around the pipe stem.The psychiatrist folds the look behind his mask when he sees Will’s attention leave the pipe to himself again.

 

Will inhales more smoke blowing it in Hannibal’s direction. Not in the man’s face, he’s bitter not stupid after all. 

 

“I don’t know after I took smoking back up.” the smoke escapes his lungs as he replies. Will doesn’t bother to hide his pleased expression when Hannibal has a look of distaste hint on his face. Now maybe he’ll leave well enough alone,the empath thinks.

 

“I wasn’t aware it was something you had quit before.”

 

“Yeah. Smoked in my teens and when I was a cop. I stopped after I was stabbed when I was trying to get into the Bureau. Then when I found myself here. Time on my hands. Nothing to do sometimes but drink and smoke.” Will coughs a bit. He huffs smoke out his nose. He takes the pipe from his lips holding in his hand.

 

Will picked up smoking again but not as ardently as his drinking. He smoked cigarettes when he was drinking copious amounts of alcohol. He actually preferred the pipe tobacco with it's mild taste. Pipe tobacco is a little cheaper than cigarettes. Will could smoke more buying less often. He likes trying the different flavors and the smell..even though it lingers..is not as bitter and invasive as cigarettes tend to be. It's also, seems to Will anyway, smoking a pipe is more something a sailor would do.

 

“For an intelligent man, you are sorely lacking in taking care of your health. Not eating..drinking excessive alcohol and smoking is throwing your health in great peril.But I must admit the pipe completes the professor attire you used to wear.”

 

“ Thanks, I guess. Wasn't aware I exude professorship.  But don’t forget the worst threat to my health.” The empath wags his finger at Hannibal.

 

“What is that?”

 

Will paused taking another puff from the pipe smiling. He picks up his mug of coffee.

 

“You.” he whispers peering at Hannibal over the brim of the cup. 

 

He blows out the smoke and takes the pipe in hand again before taking a sip. His eyes still on Lecter. Who lets a predatory smile slip through the corners of his mouth.

 

“I have missed you so William. But I will leave so you can continue with your plans. If I may, I suggest if you won’t see me that you see someone with a medical degree.”

 

Hannibal stands looking down at Will who makes no sign of seeing him to the door. He looks up at Hannibal.Will rests his pipe in the ash tray.

 

“I’ll take that inconsideration. Forgive me for not getting up. I feel rather breathless at the moment.” He rests his jaw on his fist.His elbow resting on the arm rest.

 

“Certainly.” chuckles Hannibal. The man moves gracefully across the tiny space opening the door. He quietly closes it as he exits.

 

Will rubs his chin with one hand. The other hand moves to his chest. He feels like his lungs are struggling to pull in oxygen. He frowns at himself. Does he need to see a doctor? He seems to have trouble breathing lately. Then he curses himself.’You fucking idiot! It’s all in your head! It’s what he wants you to think! Moron.” Will grimaces pushing off from the chair to head to Nome.

* * *

 

Will was pleased when he returned from Nome. He had an inexpensive but sturdy laptop. It would do until he had enough funds for an upgrade. It had internet access which was the most important feature. He also bought three cases of whiskey. That should hold him over until he needs to order another case or two.A ‘fuck you Hannibal’ smile was on his face for a whole week.

 

Will had succeeded in avoiding the bar and grill, now named the Rack with a stag’s antlers  as the logo, for a week or so but tonight he was meeting the sheriff there. He’s at least eating free he supposes. Will feels sluggish walking into the bar. The weather had been awful with cold front after cold front coming through. He developed a wet cough first. Then, Will sounded so hoarse people thought he had laryngitis. Which suites him just peachy. Now he has an excuse for his  anti social behavior.

 

Will pulls off his knit cap. He must have beat the sheriff here. He finds a booth. He takes a seat. He’s finally settled in his head leans back and he shuts his eyes. He feels like he could sleep for a week.

 

“Welcome to the Rack. What can I get you?”

 

Will hears a familiar female voice. He opens his eyes to see Abigail standing there with pad and pencil in hand.Her face shows concern as her blue eyes take in Will.He tries to clear his throat.

 

He whispers out, “What’s the special?”

 

“Um..it’s chili and cornbread with a drink. Are you okay Will? You look puffy..in your face and hands. Your voice is barely there.”

 

“Really? no voice” Will’s voice putters out at the word voice. He covers his mouth coughing for a moment.

 

She looks at him like a disgruntle teenager she is. He looks at her face like a parents at the end of his rope. 

 

“I’m fine. It’s the weather.” He clears his throat. “Special with water,please.”

 

She nods looking unconvinced but she turns away walking to the kitchen window. Suddenly Ben is in his line of sight. He looks up and returns Ben’s greeting with a small wave.

 

“Cat got your tongue?”

 

“No.The weather.” He strains out. Will coughs. He rubs his chest from the ache of the cough.

 

“You sound awful and you looked bad too. You look like a raccoon. Dark rings and puffy eyes.”

 

“Thanks! for the pep talk Benjamin.”

 

Ben shrugs. “Sorry.Telling it like it is. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

 

“I think you need to leave.” a hoarse whisper. Will clears his throat menacingly. He thinks it sounds ominous until he coughs again making his eyes water from exceration.

 

“Oh no,no!” Ben’s eyes light up when he understands how Will took that statement. “Not him. I am sorry..Just in general man.Sorry.”

 

Will waves his hand dismissively for Ben not to think anything about it. Before Ben can say anything Sheriff Robertson comes over and greets Ben. She slides in the booth across from the empath. Ben chats a moment before before excusing himself. Will eyes turn toward the sheriff’s concerned brown ones.

 

“Geesh Will you look like shit. Are you okay?”

 

Will stares a moment.He feels like the stars and the planets have lined up against him at the moment, If he could yell he would but at the moment it would sound like a mouse squeak. He sighs.He gives a small cough.

 

“Just peachy.” he snarks.

 

“What’ with your voice? You aren’t contagious because that bad stomach bug is going around.” she stops taking in Will’s face.He looks like he could bust with a pin prick. She stops and laughs.

 

Then Will shakes his head and chuckles silently.

 

Hannibal appears at the table. Will rolls his eyes toward the heavens. He feels hands take his face then nimble fingers then lift his eyelids. Will squirms like a two year old without the volume of protest of one.The psychiatrist takes Will’s hands turning them over in his own. Hannibal bends down pulling one of the empath’s legs out of the booth. He feels Will’s calf. He loosened Will’s boot. Will’s feels his face flush as the sheriff watches with an amused smile.

 

“Stop it Hannibal! I’m not that kind of date!” he tries to snarl out that comes out as a roar ending in another squeak and a cough that feels like it will never stop.

 

“Will. Your extremities are showing peripheral edema.  When I touch your calf water is weeping out of your skin. You’ve lost your voice which is an effect of the pressure on your vocal cords and lungs. I would hazard a guess that if I were to listen to your lungs I would find  you have pulmonary edema.” Hannibal says something in Lithuanian.

 

Will raises an eyebrow. “Did you curse at me in your mother tongue?” he hoarsely grouses out.

 

“As a matter of fact I did. You need to see someone as soon as possible. Right now, you need to get rid of that fluid before you drown.”

 

Hannibal leans in eyes locked on to Will’s. It’s like he is trying to emphasis the urgency in his voice physically.Will looks at Hannibal and motions to Shia across from him. 

 

“We have a meeting and I am hungry.” he says crossing his arms across his chest. Shia shakes her hand raising her hand to tell Will that their discussion can wait.Will grabs her hand gently pushing it toward the table.

 

“I’ll be fine.” he says looking at her as he releases her hand.

 

“I can barely understand you Will. It can wait.” The sheriff gently says.

 

“My bank account can’t.” he says looking at her pointedly.

 

“How about this.” interjects Hannibal. They look at him.

 

“We elevate your legs. You eat and while you do, Sheriff and you have your meeting. I’m going to get you a powerful diuretic. If that has not helped the symptoms, I’ll give you a  manual lymphatic drainage massage. It’ll help push the fluid toward heart. We can have a chaperon if you don’t trust me alone.”

 

Will turns bright red. He does trust Hannibal, still, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s just he is so touched starved he’s not sure he won’t make a spectacle of himself. His reactions too intense and noticeable. He looks at Hannibal deciding what he needs to do.

  
  
  


“

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mom has pulmonary heart disease. When ever a storm front sweeps the air her voice changes from the pressure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry..a little short but spring break...ugh!  
> no beta

Will took the offered diuretic. He sat sideways with his legs off the floor across the booth he occupied. The swelling went down but he refused the massage.When he arrived at his cabin, Will found a shivering Winston sitting outside. Will brought him inside feeding the dog some leftovers. The next day he returned Winston to Abigail for another awkward encounter. It was  filled with the protest they did not bring Winston back to him. Will said nothing. He left the bar heading out into the cold. That week he did find a cardiac doctor scheduling appointment.

  
  


Will liked the cardiac doctor immediately. Dr. Michael Galbreatha has classic Native American features.His lab coat covered practical jeans, flannel shirt and fleece vest with work boots. When he entered the examination room. He introduced himself washing his tan hands flipping back his salt and pepper hair from his face. 

 

The empath explained his symptoms lately of shortness of breath, water retention, fatigue and voice changing with the pressure of weather. Then they discussed Will’s family medical history. Actually, his paternal side of the family, since his mom’s family was as much a mystery as she was. Will’s father drank but didn’t smoke. He was a mechanic around diesel boats and ships. He had a  massive heart attack at the age of fifty, like his father before him. 

 

Will’s father wasn't allowed to return to work going on permanent disability. He went from a functioning alcoholic to a full blown alcoholic, dying when Will was in his mid-twenties from a combination of factors. It was ruled a natural death by the corner. Will didn’t ask for an autopsy.It would be just enough fodder to struck his imagination into a blaze. His father died alone. An experience Will is resigned he will encounter when his time comes. He didn’t want to endure it before his time.

 

Dr. Galbreath listened to Will’s heart then he poked and prodded like all doctors do. Finally, he explained he want to do some x rays, MRI, and a stress test. Will refused citing no insurance and not enough money. The doctor nodded his head in understanding. He tells Will if he changes his mind to please call and schedule as soon as possible. He prescribed some vitamin supplements and recommend light exercise.

* * *

 

Will knows. He just knows he has whatever his father had. He doesn't need tests to confirm it for him.The empath would have to get another job, being a mechanic Will is exposed to toxic fumes regularly. Will won’t be able to drink, as much, or smoke at all. He’ll have to, God forbid, eat healthily and exercise. He may have to move where the weather pressure is not so severe, like out west.

 

No. No. Will is not ready to face this now. He has built his straw house on the bank of the river denial. He likes it there. He likes the view. Until his straw house is blown away or flooded with reality he is not budging. Will also doesn’t want to give the local cannibalistic serial killer the satisfaction that he is right.

 

Two weeks after his appoint he receives a call from the doctor’s office about setting up appointment times. Will gruffly informs the nurse that a mistake has been made because he has no insurance. The woman assures him there is not mistake the tests were paid for by an anonymous benefactor. Will hums in acknowledgment informing the nurse he will need to call her back.

 

The empath hears scratching at the front door. Opening it he finds Winston looking a little abashed as he seems to enlarge his eyes looking forlorn at Will. He sighs. He jerks head toward the interior with a “Get yuurrrr fluffy ass in here, boy!”. Winston bounds in with tongue lolling to the side. Will brings out a bowl of food and water. He bought them when Winston showed up on his doorstep, every night for the past week.

 

They have found an odd domestic routine between canine friend and ex-master. Winston scratches and looks pitiful. Will sighs lets the dog inside. He feeds and waters Winston. They later curl up in front of the fire. Will drinks reads and pets Winston. The dog lays with head on or near Will to receive soothing touches. They go to bed. Will returns Winston to Abigail and Hannibal the next morning.

 

Abigail mentions time and time again, that Winston is coming on his own. Will might as well just keep Winston at his house, she says irritably one morning. Will asks if someone has peed in her people Wheaties that morning. He still  got it, he thinks, when the girl bristles. She ignores the jab stating, clearly the dog has a preference for Will as his alpha.

 

Will shakes his head. He gives the excuse no time, not enough room, he belongs to them and once when giving Winston back again was overwhelming, he confesses guilt. He feels guilty for leaving his pack behind.It’s an echo of a thought or feeling Will often encountered as a child. Did his mother feel guilt or shame for abandoning her child along with his father? Did she have other children whom she kept? Were they worthy of her love and attention, unlike Will? That is one of the reasons Will had not adopted any more animals. He would feel like he was betraying his pack in favor of another.It didn’t sit right on the empath’s counscience. Although, dogs are simpler in their emotions than their human counterparts, Will is a complex man.

 

The next day, Winston hops into the Jeep. Will doesn't head to town but toward Hannibal’s  A frame house. It looks like something out of the Shirley Temple version of  Heidi. When Will approaches he thinks the house looks like it is made out of gingerbread. A place where children are fattened up and eaten by a witch. If the witch is anything like Hannibal, Hanzel and Gretal never had a chance. Will imagines Hannibal fatting the kids up then talking them into killing each other as he watches sipping wine. Gruesome. 

 

In the same morbid vein of thought, Abigail and he could be the ill-fated kids. It makes Will shiver. Then he chuckles because there is the potential Hannibal could find himself in the oven.

 

Will sighs listening to the ticking of the cooling engine scratching absently behind Winston’s ears. The lights are on inside the house. Hannibal looks like he is in the kitchen. Will assumes he knows Will is sitting outside watching  the man cook. 

 

Will open the car door whistling as Winston bounds out of the jeep trotting up to the door. He woofs and the door opens to a smiling Abigail. She ruffles the dog's fur, then Winston trots on by as she holds the door open for Will. They utter no greeting but nod at one another.They are gradually getting to where they aren’t as wary of each other.Will removes his parka and hat. Then he takes off his snow-covered boots. Abigail disappears to the kitchen, Will assumes when he finds her gone. Will breathe deep the scent of breakfast. He follows his nose through the house to the open kitchen and dining area.

 

How very informal muses Will. Will goes to the breakfast counter taking a seat. Hannibal turns around still dressed in pajamas and a robe. He smiles warmly at Will.

 

“Have you brought the wayward canine home?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Thank you. Would like some breakfast for your trouble.”

 

“Sure as long as it’s not long pork.” Will scratches his beard. He hears Abigail hesitate in her setting the table. He imagines she shrugs then continues. Hannibal is smiling.

 

“You’re in luck. It’s quiche and coffee cake.”

 

Will takes the coffee mug Hannibal pours for him. He blows then takes a sip. Made just like he likes and it taste heavenly.Why couldn’t he make normal friends that could cook like this?

 

Will and Abigail make their way to the table.Hannibal joins them with the platter of food. They serve themselves family style. A style that Will comfortable and familiar to him even if homecooked meals were few and far between in his developmental years. After a few minutes of humming and chewing with a smattering of compliments in between them, Will decides there is not a time like the present  to take care of business.

 

“Thanks for paying for the tests but I have no intention of doing them.” 

 

Hannibal and Abigail exchange a confused look. Hannibal places his mug on the table frowning. 

 

“What tests?”

 

Will sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.He looks up into Hannibal’s eyes. They lock but Will wants to make this point very clear.

 

“Do. Not.Lie to my face. I know you lie by omission but please, no direct lying...especially when I have asked you a direct question.”

 

“Will...I do not know about any tests. I assume they are medical in nature by the depth of your disdain when you say the word “test”. As a medical professional will inform you, I would have to have consent to be informed about anything medical. Whoever your benevolent benefactor is, I will assure you, it’s not me.”

 

Will nod his head. His jaw clenched. Lecter is not lying to him but damnit if Will didn't give him some pertinent information.

 

“If it’s paid for..maybe the universe is trying to tell you to have them done.” 

 

Abigail's quiet interjection strikes Will as funny for some reason. He nods his head smiling taking up his mug. Abigail looks out to the snow covered view.

 

“Well it is..don't you think?”

 

“The universe has kicked me around all my life, mon cher. I’ve learned not take anything it says as gospel.”

 

Abigail pouts then roll her eyes as she heads to the kitchen with her empty plate. Hannibal is silent. He just watches Will look out of the huge window drinking his coffee.

 

“I won’t ask because I know you won’t tell me. But if these tests are important, maybe you should thank your patron by having them done. It would be the polite thing.”

 

Will snorts.It does beg the question of who paid for the tests. More importantly, why?

  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry short..trying to get past hump in the road.unbeta

He sits brooding outside in the swirling snow. Flakes cling to his lashes and his beard but he can’t rouse himself to go inside. Where it warm and inviting. There is too much on his mind anymore. He starts working on something falling into old pattern rhythm. It allows his thoughts to wonder.It’s an avalanche if angst  with resentful thoughts. Scenarios where things that were unspoken, now have a voice. Over and over again,the words change but the feeling remains.This,going out for fresh air, was supposed to take his lingering thoughts away. It didn’t. Sometimes he gets locked into a position like this where he can’t seem to move. Not quite catatonic but close enough.

 

Today feels like déjà vu. His whole life feels like one long dDéjà vu. As though he is reliving moments in time over and over again. Either he actually has experienced that moment in time or imagined the outcome in such vivid detail, often he can’t tell the difference. Which are  the real scenarios and which are those solely in his head  that feels so real. Actual his  reality feels like echoes from another time; past or future. The now is in his head.

 

His breath wheezes in his chest. His lungs squeeze and aches. Will cover his chest with his hand rubbing it soothing away the clenching of muscles. He sighs lifting himself off the stump he occupied. He stretches pops his back. He holds one shoulder then the other as he rolls the ball in the socket. God, he aches anymore. Getting older is a disappointment.

 

He slogs his way through the snow kicking his boots on the door frame knocking off the snow. He enters discarding coat, hats and gloves. He moves toward the fireplace stopping to fill a glass with amber liquid. He needs a warm up. He makes his way to the old overstuffed chair. Sitting down in the cognac buttery softness of worn leather warmth, he pulls his fleece throw over his lap slouching lower resting his hand filled with whiskey on his midsection.

 

Will refuses to do the tests.Especially, since he doesn't know who paid for them. If it were Hannibal he could, at least,  could justify it as payment for emotional and mental duress. But he doesn’t know,  so who knows who it is and what they expect..if  anything in return. It is ingrained in him not to accept charity. A real man stands on his own.All those cowboy up poster board sayings swims in his head. 

 

Kindness, though, kindness and genuine interest are his Achilles heels. He is prone to letting it slip in under the door. The warmth and glow remind him of late afternoon sunshine skating across the floor. It’s smooth,rich,ambered colored and subtle in its invasion of the area. Will feel like a cat who stretches languidly out into the warm area for a nap. That is what kindness feels like deep in his soul. 

 

He can’t help himself,he follows the light of kindness. Even when it’s been only  will-o'-the-wisps  beckoning, with no real source, in the fog he follows. Sometimes there is a source that has the illusion of kindness but instead its  turned on him burning him to the core. Will still tags along after it. 

 

The last time was with Hannibal.Nobody gives nothing without expecting something, especially from him. There is always a catch. Fucking optimism..what a crock..the goddamn glass is fucking half empty or better yet..just plain empty. Will nods in agreement with his own assessment of life.

 

With this very raw feeling twisting around his brain, he will not accept any anonymous benefactor's generous help. Who the fuck does he have to live for? Serial Killers? The only people who seem to want to know Will. Well, they want him to know and understand them. Then more than likely they want him to rehash how they think and kill so they can basic in the feeling of being understood. Fucking narcissist..all of them.

 

What does he have to live for? No dogs to care for, no family, no meaningful job and no spiritual doctrine that gives him faith. What? Who? Fuck it...maybe..he should leave it all behind again and go drink himself to death like in that depressing as fuck movie  _ Leaving Las Vegas _ .

 

Well..ain't I, Mr. Fucking Sunshine...sun of a bitch...Will drawl in his head. Christ,  he sounds like his daddy. Another reason to code switch that accent right outta of there.

 

Will drains his cup then looks over at the table. The bottle is empty. Now he’s totally alone...he laughs..not even liquor to keep him company. All out. Will bleary-eyed gets up stumbles his way to the desk opening draws. He throws contents out until he finds his prepaid cell phone. He bought a couple years worth of service and minutes he barely uses it. He punches in for a text. He hits sends.

 

A beep sounds on Hannibal’s phone. He walks over to the basket he places his cell phone into and looks at the screen one new message. He hits the icon bringing a message that says.

 

**You fuckin owe me Ben n boy.Come get me...I need a dnk. Ned 2 go 2 Nome.**

 

The label says Will. When Hannibal conveniently broke into Will’s home to see the empath's living condition he perused his drawer contents finding the cell phone. He typed in his number as well as typing the Will’s number into his. He felt it may come in handy sometime as it has. Will must be fairly intoxicated.

 

Hannibal thinks about replying to the text saying he doesn’t need any more whiskey. Then he thinks better of it. He waits instead

 

Another beep. Another text.

 

**Dont u ignore me.If not nome..bring whisky..mergecy.**

 

Hannibal sits rubbing his thumb under his chin as he waits for another text. Will waits a total of five minutes before sending another one.

 

**K..fine...im goingy 2 drve mesef. Thanks for notin! Asshole!**

 

Hannibal chuckles of all the words the intoxicated man types in, Will spells the curse word correctly.He glances outside. The snow is picking up when the sun set just a few minutes ago. Hannibal pulls his boots on bundling up. He heads out to find Will.

 

Will’s jeep has slide down an embankment five miles from his home. He sits there with his forehead pressed to the steering wheel. He feels the jeep door open. Will doesn't lift his head but turns it to look. It’s Hannibal. He starts to laugh. In fact, he’s laughing so hard he is shaking then he begins to cough. Hannibal merely reaches in unbuckling the seatbelt. Once it’s released, the older man reaches in grabbing Will by his coat collar pulls him out of the car.

 

He half drags and half carries Will up the bank to his SUV. He places Will prone in the backseat heading back to his house. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, be ready for a ride on the angst train my friends.

Hannibal unceremoniously dumps Will into the front seat of his Hummer.He reaches across once he is in the driver seat to buckle the man in. Will laughs and then grumbles about overprotective cannibals until he sees Hannibal’s face. If there is such a thing as quiet fury then it rests on his face. Will feels the hair on the back of his neck rise as the tingle of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Hannibal’s eyes cage Wills not releasing them until he had pulled the vehicle onto the ice and snow covered road. Will opens his mouth to apologize but the psychiatrist puts up his hand to stop him.

 

“I need full concentration to get us safely home. Do not speak.”

 

Will’s mouth closes with a snap as he sinks lower into his coat and seat. The Hummer plows through the ice and snow with no problem. It stops in front of Hannibal’s home.The psychiatrist exits the vehicle slamming the door. Will sits trying to decide if he would ever emerge from the house once he entered it. The look Hannibal gave him lends credence in his hesitation. Suddenly, his door is yanked open. Will actual flinches back. Hannibal sighs unbuckling his seat belt. Will sits frozen in place.

 

“Do I have to drag you inside as well?”

 

Will moves over to the door getting out of the Hummer. He follows Hannibal inside. He falls to his knees once remarking it there was something in the snow that he tripped over. Once inside, Hannibal removes his outerwear and boots. Will slowly removes his wool cap and gloves. Hannibal grasps his parka pulling the empath close as he unfastens it open. He impatiently removes it then pushes the empath to seat on a bench removing his boots. Will’s face darkens in embarrassment from the parental  treatment.

 

“I’m not a child you know. I can do it.”

 

“Oh really? Not a child? Maybe I’m treating you as the drunk you’ve become.”

 

Hannibal dusts the snow off his hands looking down at the empath. Will is positively shocked, his mouth agape until he casts his head down toward the ground. He says nothing in reply. Hannibal turns to head to the kitchen but stops.

 

“Go into the living room. You’ll warm up better with the fireplace. I’ll bring you some hot tea.” With that, the psychiatrist leaves the empath in the foyer.

 

Will blinks a couple of times the tightness in his chest growing more pronounced. He gets up finding his way to the living room. He sits down his eyes focusing on the dance of the flames. He feels his eyes burn from the heat of the fire and his embarrassment. He feels ashamed of what he has fallen into. Here he imagined himself doing better. He thought he was having a normal life in Alaska. At least it felt normal to him, maybe he is deluding himself. Will feels tears prick his eyes he moves his hand to cover his mouth.

 

“Will?”

 

Will looks over to see Abigail standing next to him. Her face looks worried. Will shakes his head refusing to answer lest his lips quiver and tears flow. He will not cry here. He will not show weakness. He will get a hold of himself. It's not easy when he feels genuine concern ghosting over his feelings.Will sniffs.

 

She turns and leaves the room. She rushes into the kitchen. 

 

“What’s wrong with Will?”

 

Hannibal turns from the stove where he has placed the tea kettle.

 

“Would you like some tea?”

 

“No..thank you. I want to know what’s going on with Will. Why is he here?”

 

“Maybe you should ask him.”

 

Hannibal continues to place tea pot, tea cups, and saucer on a tray. He artfully arranges everything just so for the best presentation.He is brisk in his action and clipped in his tone letting Abigail know the conversation is not welcome.

 

She huffs walking back to the living room. She practically tiptoes into the room.Abigail knows asking Will open up to her is liking asking for a miracle.She fidgets not knowing what to do, so she does what her own mother did. She places her hand gently on Will’s shoulder and squeezes. The girl hopes he can feel her concern for him.To her amazement, Will brings up the hand that rested in his lap placing it over her hand. He squeezes back continuing to hold on to it for a moment. Abigail feels a tear fall from her cheek which she quickly wipes away.

 

Will swallows back sobs and tears over the huge lump in his throat. He sniffs as he pulls Abigail closer to him like a blanket to drape across cold shoulders.She moves her free arm around his back  crossing over his chest. She squeezes back. A natural feeling of human connection. A barrier has been lifted between them that was resentment. The resentment that Will killed her father and resentment that Abigail faked her death sending him to prison. Sometimes need is what binds us together no matter the type.

 

Will feels Abigail place her head on his shoulder her breath stirring the curls. She whispers sweet nothings of encouragement and comfort to him, as she might have for he father. Things that are said by parents to children and children to parents. A feeling of family. A foreign concept to Will most of his life. Something he has longed for in his earliest memory. A cocoon of love and understanding. Here in this quiet suffering,Will feels like this could be real. A real family for a broken boy.

 

It’s so dark of possibility it makes Will want to laugh. A family made up murder husbands with a murder daughter.It troubles him, even more, when he realizes he would be happy. A constant craving for happiness, love and acceptance has perched outside the cage of his heart. It seems to flutter around. It come close and darting away before he closes the door. Yes, if you love something you set it free is a truism.Unfortunately, Will never had this particular bird of paradise perched within reach. Its allusiveness makes it a prize you want to hide away.

 

Maybe he would feel like he belongs to someone, something in his life. An outsider only when he is outside the family.His lips  begin to tremble with the onslaught of emotions pushing through. Damnit! If he drank some more he would be blissfully numb lying somewhere in his shack passed out.

 

Will knew Hannibal  entered the room because Abigail raises up out of the awkward embrace. He hears the tinkle of porcelain on a tray placed on a table behind him.Will gives one final squeeze to Abigail's hand before releasing it with a whispered thank you. He hears muffled footsteps leave the room. The empath through the fog of whiskey and emotion is aware that the cannibal was watching the exchange. 

 

Will bristles with the thought Hannibal may pity him in the vulnerable state.Then his quills retract when a voice in heads whisper not pity...disappointment He discerns the feeling of disappointment edging toward him like waves on a shore. Hannibal tries to reign it back but it stills rolls forward. The psychiatrist desired to orchestrate his fall from grace landing in a pool of blood. Instead, the pool of alcohol and self-imposed isolation is where Will flounder. The empath is disappointed in himself as well.

 

He never wanted to wind up in this position like his father did. At least his dad had him, Will has no one. He could have someone..Hannibal.Always Hannibal.

 

The hand over his mouth moves up to his forehead becoming a fist. Will leans against it eyes shut tight.When did this longing need for the man’s presence grip him? From the moment they met? When Hannibal saved Abigail? No, for Will, he believes it started when he Hannibal brought him breakfast. It became ingrained when he was invited to the psychiatrist's dinner party. Will went out of his way to gift the bottle of wine declining the offer. He could have called but he went. Will needed to see him; to seek his approval and acceptance of his quirky nature.

 

Hannibal fostered Will’s dependency like a morsel savored on the tongue. Why stalk prey when you can have it willing step into your pot? As Will realizes how deep his dependency is for Hannibal, he becomes aware that Hannibal is dependent on him. A codependency that the psychiatrist welcomed.

 

Will feels a large warm hand card through his hair. He rocks forward leaning slightly away. The hand is not dissuaded from its caressing. Will sighs rocking back to rest fully in the leather chair.

The empath’s imagination sees Hannibal crouched down to his side. His face relaxed watching his own hand curling into the curls and waves.

 

“Would you like some tea now,William?”

 

Will draws in a deep breath then blowing it out before speaking.

 

“Why are you expecting it sober me up?” He bites out. Anger is easier for him to handle then this crushing urge to cry.

 

“Now you sound petulant.”

 

“Then stop wasting your time with a petulant alcoholic child!”

 

So beautiful in suffering and despair thinks the psychiatrist. One of the many aspects he that drew him to the empath. 

 

‘If you only see how beautifully you suffer. The flush on your cheeks. The emotion taunt on your face. The inner battle raging in the pose of your form. You would have been the muse for any renaissance artist.”

 

“Luckey me.” A clipped whisper from the muse.

 

Will hears Hannibal sigh. His hand still running through his hair. Then the psychiatrist speaks.

 

“Perhaps, I was too harsh when I spoke before. I was concerned and frustrated. I did not think before I spoke.I apologize.”

 

The empath won't speak. He doesn't want to because it's taking all he’s got not to full out sob like a child. He feels the tears escape streaking down his face. He scrunches his eyes shut. His voice is thick.

 

“You spoke the truth. No need to be sorry.”

 

“My feelings are feral, Will. I lock them in a cage but when they escape they can be destructive. Their intensity sometimes breaks down decorum and thought, before I can stop them. It’s not true. You are not a drunk. You are sick,William. You are suffering physically and emotionally. Let the doctors help you with the physical side. Let me help you with the emotional side.Let me care for you.”

 

Will finally opens his red-rimmed eyes. He turns his head toward the psychiatrist. He wipes his tears on his shirt sleeve.

 

“They call this toxic, Dr. Lecter. This codependency you have created and I fought against. I feel like…”

 

Hannibal cocks his head to the side. His eyes meet Will’s. The empath turns them toward the fire.

 

“That..I am..fighting a losing battle.”

 

A moment passes while Hannibal seems to collect his thoughts.

 

“Some may call this codependency, that is true.Some may say this love at it most true form.  Some would call this relationship a mere friendship. Some may say it is a romantic relationship.We could call ourselves family if you wanted it.”

  
Will heaves a sob before he can stop it. His head falls into his hands. He feels Hannibal encircle him in his arms.Will doesn’t fight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some potential trigger: self harm

After what feels like decades, Will’s sobs turn into sniffles then into silence. His eyes now fixate on the fire. He feels numb with a small undercurrent of despair trickling into his body. It pools in his feet and hands. His lungs feel heavy and moist.He imagines his skin weeping out the excess tears his eyes can’t release fast enough. His drowning in his emotions. This sensation of drowning in his emotions is not the first time or the last time, Will endures.

Will places his hands around his middle pushing his back into the chair. If he could fuse with the seat fabric, he would disappear from Hannibal's attention. He feels foolish, embarrassed and weak after the display of raw feelings. Being alone is the safest nonjudgmental company he has for this vulnerable state.

He sighs thinking about his strange little paradox of his. He wants to be alone when he is with people, but then again, when Will is alone he wants people with him. This paradox is one reason for his small canine pack. Pure feel ng, unconditional love, and company when he wanted it while he keeps a safe distance from the real beasts that snap at his heels.

Other people’s emotional drama filled lives are like rabid animals. All their teeth covered in saliva and blood from the ones they tear apart like a pack of wild dogs tear apart their captured prey. Will’s always been the prey even when he shows his teeth. They are milk teeth all flash of a snarl of a small dog.He wants the safety of hearth and home. This ideal place eludes Will always. For the empath, there is no home and no comfort. The one he built made of sticks torn down by the lion in the room. A lonely predator is pacing around Will. The empath's life is hanging on a precarious edge of life or lunch.

He gathers enough courage to look at Hannibal. The older man has moved to the couch giving him an illusion of physical space. He is drinking his tea as he pretends to be concentrating on the brew instead of Will.

Why does that man bother with him? Will muses. Even though Hannibal is a serial killer why would he waste time on the profiler that is no longer a profiler. If he cleaved himself to Will hoping to monitor the investigation in progress, that makes sense to the empath. However hanging on when Will is no longer with the FBI seems a fruitless endeavor. Could he care about Will? With Hannibal is there a refuge for Will's paradoxical personality.How will he ever know if the illusion in real not a reflection in Hannibal's magic box?

It’s not like Hannibal has given Will any reason to believe that safety and comfort lie within his doors. The man is the most dangerous of all the serial killers; Will has ever encountered. Hannibal's jaws open with the pretense of noble intention.

The dark places Hannibal manipulated Will into acknowledging is where Hannibal misstepped in his excavation.He miscalculated Will’s unpredictability. When Will walked away from everything, the memories lingered.

Will coax out emotions from the cold dormant soil of himself. The flower of friendship was feed by Hannibal’s acts of kindness and concern. Will water it from the underground water of acceptance. If there was anything genuine in these shared emotions, they were so tainted with the poison of betrayal. The roots twisted with hurt and paranoia. Instead of dying like most flowers it mutated into a twisted state of co-dependence. The roots ran so deep that when Will has any altruistic thoughts about Hannibal, he sees the scorched and barren soil of what was a lie.

  
It feels like the stage of cynicism is set. This play is from Will’s lifetime of experiences. Unfortunately, Hannibal is not the only person to do this to Will. This production was on a grander scale. What hurts is how bad Will wants this safe harbor, he empathizes away all the anger. He could overlook all the terrible things has done to Will. He craves the freedom forgiving his friend would bring. It’s he is too weary to deal with one-sided relationships anymore.He desires numbness of escape from reality Would he be any more miserable if he were locked up? If he was content and happy in his mind permanently away from this reality, is that a bad thing?

Will’s thoughts coil around until he feels smothered by them. He just wants to be. Can’t he just be for a few hours? He needs to do something or go somewhere before he rips his skin off. The younger man feels like he is molting his old thoughts. He wishes he could shed them leaving the husk of betrayal and loneliness behind him as his new thoughts tingle against the cold air.

Will’s hands start rubbing his arms and his hands slowly gently at first. Before too long the younger man starts briskly running his hands over his body. The harder he rubs the, better it feels. He’s trying to slough off the pain but, it’s still there. So Will rubs harder before someone catches his hands.

Will look up into maroon eyes as he pants for air his skin feels thick and itchy.

“William, you need to stop.Your rubbing your skin raw.”

Hannibal nods his head at the streaks of read on the visible skin. The younger man swallows thickly.

“Pull my hair.”

“Pardon?”

“Pull my hair. Grab a fist full of hair and pull it, hard.”

“No William. I won’t do that.”

Will forcibly pulls his hands out from Hannibal’s grasp. He runs his fingers through his brown curls. When his fingers snag on some tangled hair, he pulls. He then starts scratching his head forcibly before grabbing and pulling his hair again. He cycles through this action a couple more times. His skin is still crawling.

Will pulls his hands down to his mouth sinking his teeth into the meat of his palms and the side of his hands. His skin feels numb, and the bites are like he has no teeth. He bites harder and harder leaving a bloody impression of teeth. The empath's hands forcibly removed from his mouth. He feels a prick in his neck.

“What a fuck!” Will yelps in surprise. Hannibal lays the needle down on the table.

“You are trying to harm yourself, Will. ”

“You don’t understand Hannibal! I need that! Everything feels like I'm in cotton, what’s inside needs out!”

Will’s eyes begin to droop as Hannibal keeps Will’s hands imprisoned by his.

“Shhh…” he shushes Will stroking a hand through his hair. He gently tugs once in a while so the younger man will stop struggling. It works between the sedative and the tugs of his hair he finally stops fighting. Will then dips into sleep.

“What happened?”

Abigail timidly stands at the door watching Hannibal stroke Will’s face with fingertips.

“I had to sedate him. He is overwhelmed and hurting himself to cope.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Treat him. Help him whether he likes it or not.”

* * *

 

Will eyes flicker open taking in the white ceiling above the bed. His head feels like it is splitting open. His skin is oversensitive to where the high thread count still hurts. He groans slowly turning his head to the side taking in his surrounds.

It’s rather a plain room considering it is the Lecter household. Plain white walls, plain white carpet with simple modern furniture. There are no antiques and no paintings no decor to speak.Will sees a glass of water beside the bed along with some aspirin. He pushes his self up groggily taking up the water and the meds. His muscles feel stiff. He stretches swinging his feet over the side of the bed his head falling into his hands braced on his knees. What happened?

Will lets his memory wonder back dredging up what happened over the last few hours. His bones feel weary. His mind is tired. This attempt to push Hannibal out of his life slamming the door on their relationship is exhausting. Is this what victims of stalking feel? Probably, he assumes.He knows that the only way he’ll ever be free of Lecter is if he dies or Hannibal does. The question is how badly does Will want this separation?

He begrudgingly gives into the little voice encouraging Will to get out of bed. He stumbles to the bathroom noticing a tub but no mirror. He splashes water on his face then uses the toilet After washing his hands he heads back into the bathroom. He might as well face the music now. He grips the handle of the door, but it doesn’t move. He jiggles the knob, finding it locked from the outside. He groans rolling his eyes, for fucks sake! He growls.

At this moment in time, Hannibal’s departure from this life seems like the right thing for Will. What a fuck! Will’s temper pulses underneath the shock and audacity of Hannibal holding him captive. He shouldn’t feel this way, but he can’t control the indignant anger. He knocks on the door calling out. Nothing.He paces a minutes hands on hips. He bangs on the door loudly yelling in hopes at least Abigail would hear him.

He could persuade her to let him out. Nothing. Will bangs more forcibly making the door shutter. Nothing. Hands on hips pacing again, head ducked down a line of determination on his lips. He walks the furthest from the door. He takes a deep breath blowing it out before he runs at the door. His shoulder hits the solid door shaking it in the hinges but still doesn't open.

Will curses as he grabs his shoulder muttering in pain.What the hell is that door made of anyway? After the pain in his shoulder has subsided, Will raises his leg kicking at the door. It shakes again and again from the pounding. Will stops out of breath and his anger subsiding a bit. He sits down with his back against the wall. He’ll wait. He’ll wait till someone comes in.

* * *

 

Hours later, he finds himself stiff.He drifts into sleep waiting for someone to come. Nobody has yet, Will starts to feel a flare of panic. What if no one ever comes? What if he trapped here?

He takes deep breaths. He chastises himself for the panic. Will makes a list in his mind why Hannibal Lecter will not let him die. The serial killer may torture him physically or psychologically because he is a sadist. However, he won't let Will die because he is not done with Will yet. Even if he wanted to do die, Lecter would bring him back from the dead to be with him incorporeally. Becuase it’s never about what he wants is it? It’s always what others want from him.  
Will wishes he could pour out this negative feelings and thoughts that seem to plague him endlessly.

Will rubs his arms feeling cold even though he is sweating. He wipes his forward. He frowns looking at the moisture on his shaking hands, He has a headache, he always seems to have a headache.There is a sound of footsteps heading in his direction. He listens hearing a jangle of keys. The door opens. A man steps inside the room Will has never met. A confused expression comes over his face. He uses the wall to help him get to his feet.

The man a tall, broad-chested man with kind eyes along with a kind expression closes the door with a snick and locking sound. He has a tray with some food, drink and pills. He places the tray on a small bedside table. The man is wearing white scrubs. He Is dominant form hidden underneath the loose clothing. The man would be robust and fast. He would be able to stop and subdue Will as soon as he made a break for it. Will deduces he is either in a hospital setting or Hannibal’s basement. If he were a betting man, he would gamble he is in Hannibal’s basement.

“Mister Graham?”

Will’s attention snaps to the man before him. So polite, yes always polite, the empath knows this man has this quality. Hannibal would not tolerate anyone being rude in his employee. The empath knows that Hannibal hired him to assist with Will. The nurses face looks sincerely concerned. Will must have zoned out a moment.He dry swallows as Will leans back on his wall closing his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Would like to sit down you look like you’re having a hard time standing?”

  
Will nods as he pushes off the wall walking unsteadily toward the bed. He sits down looks up at the man before him.

“My name is Barney. Dr. Lecter hired me to help you while you recover.”

“Recover from what?”

Barney looks around the room uncomfortably. He licks his lips before speaking.

“From alcohol withdrawal.”

“Oh, yea. Becuase I am an alcoholic! I totally forgot that. How silly of me!”

Will yells the last sentence looking around the room for a camera.

“Mr. Graham..”

“Will..please call me Will.”

“I have brought you some broth, juice and ginger ale. I also have medication for a headache and to ease the withdrawal symptoms.”

The nurse ignores the comment from the empath. Do not acknowledge the inappropriate behavior. Instead, Barney patiently waits as Will balls his fist crossing his arms. The tension in his jaw and shoulders are making his head hurt more.

Will thinks to himself; I am not a child. Then it dawns on him he looks like one they way he is sitting. Okay, he might act like one. He sighs in surrender. There is nothing to be done at the moment. He contemplates telling Barney he is held against his will.

Judging by Barney’s professional behavior, he works in this field. Will knows he would listen, but he more than likely think Will is trying to pull the wool over his eyes. Hannibal spins tales well enough to convince his employee Will is an addict. Then the nurse would take everything he said as an attempt to gain freedom so he could drink himself to death.

So, he shrugs as he cups his hand holding it out for the pills. A paper cup gently placed in the empath's hand. Will tips back his head throwing the pills into his throat. He swallows taking the glass of water from Barney drinking it half gone.

“Thank you, Barney.”

“Your welcome, Will. I am going to leave your tray here. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Barney reaches into his pocket taking a small chain with a white box attached to it. He hands it to Will. He is studying it when he hears the nurse.

“If you would please put that on and wear it all the time. If something should happen or you need anything, press the button, and someone will come.I’ll be back in an hour to pick up your tray. Anything you need right now?”

“What’s the day and time.”

“It is ten o’clock on a Monday morning.”

“Thank you. There is nothing else I need right now.”

“See you in an hour.”

Will doesn't watch the nurse leave. He looks blankly at the floor numbly.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is painfully short. I know but real life has been a bitch lately. I hope to get into the writing groove again. I wanted to put something out there to push me on. Thanks to all those who have read and are still reading this!

 

 Will alternates between pacing in his cell and laying down. True to his word Barny returns within the hour to check on him. The nurse takes the tray before leaving the room. He informs Will that  Dr. Lecter will be down this afternoon to see him. Will sullenly nods as he looks at a corner of the chamber. He sees his old friend the raven stag watching him.

He can't know for sure how many hours he is left alone, but Will starts to shake as his craving begins. His head is pounding. Will rubs his forehead sitting on the bed.He wants a drink so fucking terrible.

"Mother fucker" he hisses to himself.

He hears a jangle of keys and hears the door lock click open. Barny knocks before entering with another tray. Will look at the floor. He sees a white paper cup appear in his line of vision. It is holding more pills.

"Here is some more meds. I also have your lunch. It's a bland diet. Dr. Lecter didn't think your stomach would tolerate anything heavy."

"Thank you. Barny, can you help me?"

"Yes, Mr. Graham. That's why I am here."

"Let me out. I'm not here voluntarily. You must know that."

"I..understand that you need help. "

Barny turns leaving the room. The soft click of the door sounds like the loud clang of a prison door.

* * *

 Will raises his hand to block the bright white flashing light. He squints moving toward it curious to know what is happening; He turns to look around the room surrounding him. He blinks into clarity that he is standing in Dr. Lecter's office. He sees himself sitting in his chair sweating with his eyes rolled back into his head. His arm is extended his sleeve rolled up. Hannibal is crouching beside him he has a syringe that is inside Will's arm.

_"What is he doing?"_

Will moves closer helplessly watching as Lecter pushes some chemical into his arm. When he finishes, he removes it from Will's arm. The doctor cards his hand into Will's sweaty curls before he raises up. Lecter disposes of the evidence. He then stands behind Will, hands on his shoulders whispering something into his ear. Will moves closer straining to hear what is said. Does it matter now? He knew Hannibal manipulated him when he was ill, but this feels far more sinister than mere manipulation. It seems like brainwashing.

Hannibal smiles at Will his teeth becoming the focal point for his eyes. The light pulses increase in frequency as Lecter's skin darkens, his eyes become a milky white and rack of antlers sprout from his head.

* * *

 Will wakes with a gasp sweating profusely. He sweats more than any man should, the empath thinks to himself. Will's weight, himself is convinced is not from not eating but constant dehydration.

His breath is shallow. His eyes are roving the room expecting to find his dream beast hiding in the shadows.Is it a dream or is it memory? Both he decides, memory mixing with his atelo-subconscious revealing the danger lurking near him.

His ears pick up the echo of hoofprints causing Will to scramble back further up the bed. He is curled up at the headboard in panic. His hand covers his ears squeezing his eyes closed. He mumbles to' himself not here, not here' as the door slowly opens.

Will doesn't see who comes in, but he feels a familiar touch on his scalp. Hands carding through his hair makes him whimper. That same hand pulls his left hand away from his ear.

"William?"

Will ignores the voice as he turns his head away.

"William. Look at me." demand from Hannibal.

Will shakes his head no.

"Why?"

"I don't want to look anymore. I don't want to see anymore. I don't want to know anymore."

The empath jerks away his hand curling it into a fist. He pulls the fist toward his chest.He crumples into himself. Tears drip down his nose and cheeks. He feels every emotion he owns overwhelming himself. Will wants a drink.He wants a fucking drink right now! The empath wants to be spirited away in a cocoon of numbness.

Will feels the bed dip with Hannibal's weight. Will pushes himself up against the wall his bed is next too.

A cool hand touches his head carding through his dirty hair. Then the hand moves down his neck to his back where it rubs.Will tries to resist leaning into the touch. He attempts to resist taking comfort from his warden. The empath's resistance adds to his emotional torment.

"I know this is difficult for you." a murmur from his once friend.

"You have no idea!" Will grits out.

"I 've experienced addiction. I still struggle with it."

Will says nothing, so Hannibal continues.

"My addiction is not to a substance but a person. You, Will."

Will turns his head slightly eyeing the man before he snorts.

"You're addicted to tormenting me, changing me, scaring me.."

"I do not take pleasure in tormenting you."

"That's a fucking lie, and you know it. I can handle lies of omission but not outright lies. I remember Dr. Lecter! It's all in my head. I am starting to remember.Now get out!"

Hannibal doesn't move.

Will yells "Get out!"

Hannibal gives a curt nod then he opens the door shutting it quietly.

Will throws his pillow out the door. Knees to chest, arms covering head and hands fisting his hair, Will rock to soothe his fury.

_'Why, oh why does everything that man says echo in his mind?'_

Will replay their past conversations in his mind. The echoes of warmth and comfort spin there. He doesn't remember ever single word spoken between him and Hannibal. His memory supplies key moments and his emotional self, provide the rest.Their relationship is always unconventional as their therapy sessions were unorthodox.

The empath understand what their relationship is a co-dependent one built by design and by fate.

_'How did I arrive at this place.I've always kept to myself to keep my identity...my emotions separate from others...so this very situation would not happen.'_

Will chews his skin around his thumbnail.

_'Apparently, that very attitude made me vulnerable_ _to his influence. By denying simple human contact led to falling into Hannibal's rabbit hole. I have tumbled so far down. Either I am too big or too small to escape through the door.'_

Will body shakes with the new insight that he will obsessively turn over in his head until it is wrung out. He pulls the covers off the floor before curling up on his side. His eyes slide into slip as he imagines himself following Hannibal down further into his subconscious.

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

_Playing cards flutter down around Will as he stoops to pick them up. All the cards are hearts. The King is Hannibal, the Queen is Alana, the Jack is Abigail and Will, he grins, of course, his card is the joker._

_Will drop the cards and moves along the sagging floor of Hannibal's office in Baltimore, he spent lifetimes in through to another world. He stumbles over tree roots and tumbles down landing in fertile soil that lined with mushrooms and hands sticking out of the ground. I've been here before he sighs. He moves through the tunnel constructed out of groves that some victim's ribs and spine. Will heads toward the light shielding his eyes with a raised hand as he steps out into the meadow. The field near his home, his real home in Wolf Trap. The time is dusk and the house lights up like a boat on the water._

_He starts to head for home but stops when he realizes he can't go back again. He hears a noise at the edge of the woods. Will sees the scarlet color move through the trees. Hannibal he thinks. He follows unable to help himself. There the profiler finds Hannibal waiting for him with a feast and wine. Abigail sits there with Hannibal, a smile on her face._

_"We couldn't start without you! Welcome, home William. "_

_Hannibal pulls the dining room chair out from the table. Will smiles taking his seat. Hannibal leans over Will's shoulder placing a kiss on his cheek. Will looks up returning the kiss on Hannibal's mouth._

* * *

 

Will groans rolling over in the small bed. Not again! Another fairytale domestic dream of Hannibal and him. It feels like for months now, that is all he dreams. The detox hallucinations have finally given way to his regular nightmares. He can't believe he would rather have nightmares to his daytime hallucinations and reality.

Will's body feels weak. The physical addiction symptoms have abated by the emotional and psychological ones hang on something fierce. Will is allowed out now for a few hours with supervision nearby, of course. When Will is willing and agreeable, he takes meals with Hannibal and Abigail, when he is not he takes them alone in his room. His days falls out of order just as time seems to stop and start at Hannibal's will.

Just as Hannibal wants it Will have no one but him in is life. The profiler's thought are about the older man day and night. The revolve between wanting to kill Hannibal, to breaking him apart leaving the man as an emotional mess and finally to the domestic life he dreams about more often than not.

* * *

 

Will sits in front of the fireplace looking at the evening paper scratching a euphoric Winston behind his ears. Water drips from his curls as he leans over the paper to turn the page. The paper is spread out on the floor. He is playing an old game he played as a child. No one taught it is something he invented on his own to while away the time. He looks for patterns. Models in words like shapes or direction or how they stack, patterns that are sentences within paragraphs like hidden meaning or message. If you look long enough, the brain will develop a pattern to see something in most anything.Humans need to see connections within their lives, even if it is all in our heads.

Sometimes Will's conscience mind dominates and sometimes things from the deep creep forth.Lately, it's been fairytale metaphors especially _Alice In Wonderland_. Patterns of holes and tunnels, visual cues, words about following rabbits down to hidden feasts, mad hatters, tea parties.Will's mind is extraordinary to see these in the Alaskan local papers and McPaper like the national ones.

Hannibal is sitting in a chair nearby sipping wine. He is thoroughly engrossed in watching the water drip down Will's neck while the sound of that same water dripping and hitting the paper irritates him.Will vexes and delights Hannibal in equal amounts some days.

Hannibal clears his throat.

"Will."

"Mmhmm?"

"Do you know your t-shirt is wrong side out?"

"It is?" Will hands pull his sleeve down to look. He spies the telltale signs of the serger sewing on edge.

"Fuck." The word follows a sigh of self-exasperation.

Will takes off the t-shirt water droplets flicking on Winston who looks up from his slumber. Will pets Winston's head as he murmurs a light-hearted apology.Will jumps when he feels Hannibal's hand on his shoulder. Fingers lightly trace an old injury.

"Does it bother you?"

Will shivers from the hot breath on his neck and shoulder.

"Sometimes...it stiffens up more than usual. More than the other, I should clarify, I am getting long in the tooth."

Will smiles mischievously as he slides his head through the t-shirt neck hole. He pauses peering at the older man through the knit material. For a brief moment, his imagination is wrapped in muslin before entombed in Hannibal's basement. The shirt slides over his head easily as he shrugs it down taking away Hannibal's view. Hannibal sits down on the ottoman near where Will's is sitting. He has folded the newspaper placing it to the side.

"How are you feeling today."

Will shrugs placing his hands on the top of his head looking into the fire. The fire is as distracting for Will as a tv is for a toddler.Hannibal patiently waits his gaze lingers on Will's features in the firelight. The younger man finally sighs.

"Better than yesterday, I suppose."

He puts his hands underneath his arms pits looking at his feet.

"And?" prompts his captor.

"And I think I am ready to come out of the rabbit hole."

"You do?"

"You sound amused. I am ready to come out of lockdown."

Will looks at Hannibal intently. Barney, shifts uncomfortably in the background.Will glances back at his nurse/assistant/guard/keeper.

"Not that being holed up with Barney is a bad thing. You've been great by the way.."

Will smiles as Barney smiles and nods his head. During the long days and weeks of Will's detox, they have developed a tentative friendship. Both well aware the placement as keeper and patient but all the interaction has been polite, often warm or friendly, all, in all better treatment than most facilities Will imagines.

Hannibal's turns his head slightly toward the other man in the room.

"Barney, if you would like there are coffee and cake in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Dr. Lecter."

Barney answers before taking his cue to leave the two alone.

Once alone Hannibal directs his attention to his patient.

"You are better than you were when you attacked Barney and me."

"Yeah well, I am a lot tamer than I was. The hallucinations have stopped. I am more in control of myself."

Will feels a pang of embarrassment over the episode. Granted he may have more cognizant then, he appeared, but you can't blame him for trying? Well, Hannibal would because any attempt to escape from one's captors is rude.

"But you still have refused therapy. To be successful in beating this addiction is the willingness to express yourself and talk with someone."

Will bristles at the comment. How many times must they have this same conversation? The younger man shifts in place as his jaw tightens.

"It also depends on if you want to change or not. Not that that is any concern for you, Doctor. Regarding the matter of my lack of willingness to go back to your unorthodox therapy is the issue of broken trust between us. How are you going to overcome your addiction to me?"

Will's eyebrow goes up as he shifts turning his colder side of bis body toward the heat.

" Trust is something we can rebuild as we converse. I need to feel like I can trust you as much as you feel like you can trust me."

Will laughs rolling his eyes before gritting out what he trust himself to say that will not end his immediate demise.

"Really? Trust me? That's rich. I haven't framed you for murders or had you incarcerated where you lose your job and friends while simultaneous fuck someone you had romantic feelings for....so how is it you don't trust me?"

"I don't know where your loyalties lie William. If you plan on harming me in some way."

"Harm you? I noticed you've not acknowledged that I could kill you. Do you think I couldn't?"

"How would you do it?"

Will licks his lips looking at Hannibal's neck.He can see his hands gripping tightening around the older man's throat.

"With my hands." barely audible to anyone on the farther edges of the room.

A small tilt of the corners of his mouth in amusement.

"How intimate..so you have thought about it."

"More than you know. Excellent ducking the question, by the way."

Will takes a bite of the bitter fruit of his manipulation chewing it slowly in his mind. It makes his mind feel nauseous.

"I know you could do kill me. This method seems so simple and a tad over done. You have the talent and the imagination, but you lack the drive to carry out your desires..in the end..you would stop yourself. Unless I provoked you or made you feel threatened into action, you would just rely on your imagination to fulfill those urges. But aren't they excuses for you to cover up the real reason why you killed. The delight of it?"

The younger man snorts.

"You know, you are such a giant prick most of the time. Does no one else notice this about you?"

"Apparently not." the older man smiles at the other.

Will clears his throat rubbing his face before picking up the conversation from before.

"Sometimes simple plans are the best. You and I both know, nothing is simple especially people's intentions.The reason I killed was to save one life from being harmed by another. Yes I felt powerful, and yes part of my liked it, but my taste for it is..tolerance at it's best. I do not delight in the act as others are so inclined."

Will stretches his arms over his head. He feels the older man's watching him. He shivers with the weight of Hannibal's gaze.It's a gaze that is masked rather one filled with many emotions. He muses if Lecter control's his emotions so tightly to tame the beast inside to keep it from devouring everything the man finds beautiful.They sit in silence for a while before Will moves away from the fireplace. The younger man is finally warm enough to sit on the couch.

"So your addiction to me? Our co-dependancy? How to you plan to come this over this? You thought you distracted me completely, didn't you?"

"No Will. You are a dog with a bone. You will knaw on it till there is nothing left or you are satisfied. I never said I wanted to be broken free from my addiction."

"And neither did I but here we are."

"Yes, here we are."

Hannibal moves from the ottoman over to the couch where Will sits. He sits down placing his hand on the younger man's neck and one in the back of Will's head. He pulls his addiction closer brushing their lips together. Will gasps in surprise his head jerking back from the unexpected touch. Will looks at Hannibal's mouth. He relaxes allowing the psychiatrist to pull him into another kiss. Still closed mouth but as intimate as any affection Will has experienced before.

"Sometime compulsion to taste your addiction overwhelms one's impulse control." says Hannibal as he pulls their foreheads together keeping both the connection and the avoidance of eye contact.

Will swallows the heat of the kiss. He feels it move down his chest toward his groin area. A long ago forgotten feeling making an impromptu to appearance. Now is not the time to long for Hannibal's touch when Will is so vulnerable. But when is he not his mind asks himself.

"Are you in love with me Dr. Lecter?"


	11. Chapter 11

Will feels like his lungs will burst if he moves. He feels the heat start at the back of his neck running through his veins like an electrical circuit.Hannibal's eyes look like a dark pool that have no end. Will can see that the doctor is weighing his options, but he knows the answer. He has always known but never acknowledged it. Now is the time for confirmation.

"Do I find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. Do you find it in me, is the question, isn't?

The tsunami of emotions engulfs Will, pulling him underneath the surface.He can't hold his breath for long. He swims up to the surface of his mind. Will's body gets up then he stands still. He doesn't know what he wants to do or where he wants to go. He must take some form of action. He paces the room walking the around the peripheral of the furniture. He rubs his hands together in a soothing gesture.

Will mind rewinds to when he and Hannibal met in Jack Crawford's office. The memory plays like an 8mm movie projector. It's fuzzy around the edges, and the sound fades from clear to the hardly audible at all. Will stops in front of the same stag statue Hannibal had in his office. That fucking stag that plagued his mind while his mind burned within his skull.

Hannibal has moved cautiously toward Will watching him fall apart once again. A long forgotten pain of too recent events for Will to ignore comes harrowing back to his thoughts. The humiliation and the betrayal from someone so close. A rare gift of trust Will gave to his so called friend. He can't help be disappointed in the confession of love. It feels false like when Beverly Katz visited him when he was incarcerated. Will thought,no had hoped, she came with the intention of seeing him for him but she came for what she needed him to do. The age old hate of his ability rears its head once again. Will wishes he was someone else.

"Why?"

It comes out as a choked sob.

"Do you feel you aren't worthy of love? It's obvious the why isn't? Your intelligence, your gift of empathy and your potential of becoming more. You are beautiful to me..physically and mentally. I desire to help you reach it. I consider you my equal."

Will shake his head as his chuckles. Darkness hid within the laughter. The empath knows why he never holds onto the love he craves. The empath has heard the why since he was a toddler.

"Not why you think you love me! Why did you put me into that place? One of my greatest fears? Why did you let me believe I murdered Abagail? If you love me then why? To reach my potential? To face my fears? To satisfy your curiosity?"

Wills' voice raises at every question.He demands to know what part of this charade was love? When was it acceptable to sacrifice Will for Hannibal's self-indulgence? None of it felt like love to Will.Before Hannibal can speak, Will interrupts him.

"Was it to save your skin? Was I too easy a dupe for you to pass the blame too?"

Will eyes are cold and hard like  granite. The empath's hands curl into a fist as he looks at that fucking statue. He can't bare to look at Hannibal.Will hears Hannibal sigh.

"I am sorry you went to that place.But you have overcome your fear of that location. I admit I ran out of time to finish my plan. I did use you to reflect crimes that needed a perpetrator, but I did not intend for you to stay there. I had plans for your release. I couldn't tell them to you because of your state of mind."

Will turns to face Hannibal his jaw set.He says through clenched teeth.

"Yes my mind that was on fire and turned against me, that you suspected and knew about..you kept from me on purpose! You do not understand the meaning of the word love,Dr. Lecter!"

"Yes, I do William."

"No..no..you do not!"

Tears fall unbidden down Will; he chokes on the sob wedged into his throat. The empath's head jerks in a nod. Everything seems to come in sharp focus for Will at that moment. The empath feels disconnected from his body but that is a blessing. He thinks better when he is not himself. A casual observer with nothing to gain or lose.

"I do understand now why you did what you did. Is that I'm not good enough for you. I've never been sufficient as I am; only when I am useful, then and only then, I deserve love. I am acutely aware of that. But you... you decided that I needed to be completely broken by you..not by someone else or by me..my drinking but by you so you could build me in your image.An extension of yourself, because of me..this Will standing before you..is not sufficient. You can't accept me as I am."

Every memory, every long forgotten emotion rolls through his heart. All the self-doubts that Will locked into the attic have clawed its way nearly through the door. Soon it will rip through Will before he can stop it. He turns toward the doorway looking past the hallway to see the soft glow of the kitchen.

Hannibal places a soft hand on Will's shoulder.

"You misunderstand me, Will. I don't want you to change.I want you to accept and expand the side which you ignore. Not change but grow."

Hannibal's voice sounds sincere. But the man is a great actor. Will wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.The empath pushes the well-intentioned hand off his shoulder. He looks at the older man over his shoulder.

"I see. I see. Thank you for trying to help pathetic me. I know what needs to be done to be loved by you. Becuase you want me only to love you right? That's why everything and everyone I feel something for is taken from me.Becuase you love my potential. Thanks, I know what needs to be done. I am exhausted from this courtship. I am weary of being alone."

Will feels his soul and heart collapse. It is not the first time he has experienced rejection. Not the first time he's told he is short of the mark or that people could like or even love him if he would act normal..be normal.

Will determinedly walks toward the kitchen with Hannibal right behind him. Barney and Abigail are standing at the counter talking when Will walks in behind Abigail. The empath grabs a knife from the block. He clutches Abigail by the waist pulling her arms into her middle. The knife at her throat the glass of juice falls and breaks on the floor.The scene feels familiar. All it needs is the smell of burning bacon then the kitchen could be in Hobb's home.

She screams looking into Hannibal's eyes begging for help. Will shushes her.He nose in her hair his eyes close for a split second before he pulls them back into a corner. Barney on his left and Hannibal on his right. Barney's hands are up in a pacifying gesture. He softens his voice talking quietly and trying to calm Will. Hannibal's eyes have a glint to them as he watches the scene unfurl.The older man clears his throat before speaking in a concerned tone.

"William. This not the answer your looking for...this is not the way..you don't want to hurt Abigail.She is like a daughter to you."

Hannibal's voice draws Will attention toward him.

  
Will shakes his head in distress. The thought of killing Abagail frightens him. The suggestion that she is a daughter to him angers him. She was never a daughter to him. She never wanted Will as a father. That was another manipulated idea planted by Hannibal into his mind. The empath starts to feel his resolve waver between the conflicting emotions he feels. He feels the fear and distress he is causing the others in the kitchen. But what must be done must be done.

"No I don't want to..but I must..so I can become and change...I need to complete what Hobbs started, don't I? I'm responsible for interrupting his becoming, right.Now I can set things right."

The knife digs into Abagail's throat as she sobs and Will crushes her closer.Barney moves closer hesitates looking at Lecter who nods in understanding.

"Mr. Graham. This is not you. I've known you for a while now.."

"You know nothing about me! How do you know this isn't the real me!?"

"Your right. I don't know you very well. But the man I've grown to know is not this way. This action will be a mistake you'll regret for the rest of your life, Mr Graham. Don't do this..you could save lives..."

Barney's face morphed in Jack Crawford's face. Will blinks. Jack has never had that look of sympathy for him before. Never...Will blinks again and there stands the orderly. Will knows, in his gut, he will regret killing Abagail. She was saved for some reason.

Will nods looking at the floor as Barney eases forward to with his hand out to take the knife. Abagail is pulled into Hannibal's arms sobbing quietly into his chest. Hannibal runs his hand down through her hair as he watches Barney and Will.

The knife feels heavy in his hand. Everything in his life feels dull. He can't keep living this way. He is surviving. There nothing in his life being built or gives him pleasure anymore. The empath gets by day to day and paycheck to paycheck. It's a hollow existence. Isn't there something else he could do that has meaning for him? A purpose that will not tear him apart at the seams? Will hates being a puppet for others than thrown out like a worn out rag doll.

Will's eyes glimpses up at Hannibal and Abigail. The empath doesn't belong here. He doesn't belong anywhere.Will's never attempted to belong or act a certain way to be accepted by people. Maybe that's what he needs to do.He sees Barney's white shoes shuffle closer and closer as he murmurs comforting words.

Will murmurs something quietly that Barney can't hear.The orderly looks at Hannibal with confusion. Hannibal shakes his head as though saying he doesn't understand what Will has said.

"I'm sorry Mr. Graham. I'm not sure what you said?"

He comes closer to the empath.

Will's head comes up. He looks Barney in the eye.

"Kill them all and save yourself!"

He lunges for Barney and feels the knife sink into the orderly's stomach. Will pulls the knife to the side as though he is gutting a large fish. Barney's face is full of shock and surprise. He collapses on Will as though embracing the smaller man.

"I'm sorry Barney. I liked you.It's not personal."

Will feels the sting of a needle in his neck and falls into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a turn of events...Should Barney live to work another day or is he steak?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me updating like a boss..well on this one at least...:)

Will sits on his bed leaning against the wall that is pushed against it. The hours and days are in a haze since the start of his becoming. His arms are restrained in a straightjacket and his mind is restrained by chemicals. He remembers bits and pieces of people coming in and out of the room. Will groans as he lifts his head which feels simultaneously light and heavy. He looks around the room the lights are dim. His muscles constrict as he tries to move them.

A woman comes in with graying brunette hair and warm blue eyes she is dressed in scrubs that bring out the color. She is a small woman in size and stature. A very quiet calm presence. She sits on the bed and gently brushes the hair from his eyes cradling his face.

"Will?"

She draws out her vowel clipping the constant ending in a soft lilt. It is very soft familiar comforting speech. Will smells roses and gardenias on her skin. His vision is blurred so he squints at her.

He recalls a soft voice saying _"Baby.Look at Momma..come on now..look..aww...looky there..you did it. Such pretty eyes..such a sweetie. Now give me some sugar..."_

Will tilts swaying his head toward her.

"Momma?"

"What honey?"

"I had a bad dream.."

"Did you? It'll be okay. I'm here. You're safe."

She brushes her fingers tips gently across the tops his ears. It makes Will squirm and smile. He sees her  eyes light up with recognition.

"Oh your such a sweet thing. I recollect a little boy that was ticklish right there too. I could just wiggle my fingers and he would giggle and squirm around. Some things never change."

Will winces from a stab of pain in his head. He hisses as though  it would leave.

"Your head hurt don't it? I've something to take for that. Will you take it for me, sweetie."

Will whispers a yes. She smiles and shows him three little pills. Will doesn't care what they are..he just wants to feel better. He opens his mouth while the woman places them in for him. Will dry swallows them.

"Here why don't you lay down while I sit with you."

Will nods laying down as the woman sits beside him. The empath doesn't understand why he is not bristly towards her touch. That's his usual m.o. but not today. She places her hand firmly but gently on the side of his face.She hums while she firmly strokes down his cheek.It is firm yet gentle enough into coaxing facial muscles to relax. Will feels his eyes grow heavy and the dark pull him under.He doesn't hear her leave locking the door behind her.

* * *

  
_Scratch.Scratch.Scratch_

Will listens to his skull scrap the wall where it rests. He likes to slide his head back forth against the wall because it grounds him in the moment. Every time the empath moves his head it feels like it's going to pull his body down to the floor. His head is too heavy for the body like an old-timey doll with a ceramic head and a cloth body.Will feels so numb and cold.If he could move his hands he's sure his fingers are white like corpses but all he can do is squeeze them lightly against his torso. He's wrapped up like a mummy. A familiar feeling from when he was a guest at BHCI.

Today he is more alert than he has in a long time. He feels the jacket is fastened too tightly. His chest feels constricted. The empath moves his shoulders and waist trying to loosen the jacket's hold on him. He bends his knees and rubs his feet together. His socks feel too tight like they are cutting into his calf muscle.Will groans. He licks his lips.

"Hannibal."

It comes out as a whisper so he tries clearing his throat before he speaks again.

"Hannibal."

Will knows Hannibal has placed some kind of audio and video surveillance system in Will's room.He wonders if the man is monitoring it or Barney.

Will feels a chill in his bones. Barney. _Is Barney alive?_

_God I hope so_ thinks Will. _What is happening to me?_

This is worse than when he was sick because this time he knows what he has done. He made a conscience decisive choice whether or not Hannibal forced his hand into action. This is all Will. All his darkness laid bare.

Will feels pressure and a squeeze. His lungs are in a vice or the oxygen is leaving the room. He shudders he remember Georgia in the oxygen chamber. He feels the flare of the fire. He groans twisting more aggressively as panic rises up threatening to suffocate him before his imagination burns him.

"Hannibal! Dr. Lecter!"

Still nothing. Not a sound of footsteps not even an echo. He tries again.

"Hannibal! You got..this fucking thing too fucking tight! Shit...Come on..come on.! Let me out of it!"

Will's words tumble into a mumble and grumble. Before he is aware of it his breathing increases.He clenches his teeth baring down his physical attempt to stop a panic attack. The empath groans in pain. This nothing like the attacks he has had before.

Still, he hears nothing.Now he's angry. Even Chilton and his guard responded to you if you yelled loud enough; if nothing else to tell you to shut up or else. How rude is Hannibal? Will tries to wiggle himself off the bed to make some real noise. He'll run into the door with his body or bang his head if he has too. The empath tries to get up but falls his legs unsteady. It forces what breath he has left in his chest out.

The pressure is getting unbearable. He grimaces. He's not sure he can make a sound to save his life. Will finally hears footsteps running down the hall getting louder as they approach.

_That's more like it!_ He snarks inside his head.

Will hears the keys in the door jangle. Will closes his eyes just trying to get the breath back into his body.

He feels strong hands help Will sit up. His eyes slit as he looks at Hannibal.

"This fucker is too tight..."he states trying to take oxygen in his lungs.

He gasps for air like a fish on dry land. He hears Hannibal order somebody get the oxygen tank and mask. Suddenly he feels a mask over his face. He slings his head struggling against it. He doesn't want the mask on! The empath is not a biter (or a pisser as a matter of fact) besides the air holes are too small. He always feels like he is smothering.

Will hears Hannibal's voice sound angry..stressed as he fights Will over the mask.

"Will! William! Don't fight! Let me put the oxygen mask on to help you breathe! Stop fighting against me!"

Will thinks, _Never you asshole! What fun would he be then if there was no fight left in him? Hannibal would lose interest._

The more Will struggles the harder time he has catching his breath. He knows if they would take that fucking straight jacket off he could catch his breath. _Why haven't they? Has Hannibal not thought of that?_

"Take off the fucking jacket!"

Will grits out but it sounds mumbled underneath the mask. Hannibal moves the mask aside.He looks at Will.

"I said, Take this fucking..jacket..off! It's too..too.."

Will's words and thoughts trickle off as he gasps for air and he feels the mask go back on.

"I have William."

Will eyes look down he sees his arms laying by his side limp. _What the hell?_ He furrows his brow. Will looks around his eyes fall on a scared Abigail and another woman who looks vaguely familiar. He's eyes close for a moment. He hears muffled orders. Will brings his hand up and pulls the mask down.

"Where's Barney? Is he okay?"

Hannibal nods his head.

"He's recovering Will."

Will is numb "Tell him..sorry.."he feels tears in his lashes.

He truly is sorry and ashamed about what he did.His chest tightens as he feels remorse sit on his chest like an elephant.

Hannibal shushed him placing the oxygen mask back onto his face.

"He knows Will. You've said this many times these few weeks. Barney is aware of it."

Will thinks _Good...Weeks?_

Will feels exhausted and sleepy. He just wants to close his eyes.He feels himself being lifted then carried out of the room down the hallway.He is placed on a hospital bed.

Hannibal is shaking him roughly.

"Will wake up! Stay with me! Will! Look at me."

"That's all you ever want to do is talk." a huffed reply." How can you understand me through this thing..."

Will knocks the mask but it's repositioned for him. Will look up at the nurse at his head who pushes his hair away from his forehead as she hands Hannibal cables he asks for. She looks down at him so very often. It..she seems so familiar.

"Yes, I am rather a bother about it. I know."

Will feels his t-shirt cut opened while electrodes placed on his chest along with the cables. _Those are going to smart when they come off_ he thinks. _Good thing I'm not too hairy._ he smirks to himself.

He hears a steady beeping along with other sounds. His eyes roll and roam with no way to focus on anyone or anything. Everything muffles and suddenly everything goes black.

* * *

_Will is laying on the hill looking up at the summer sky. He listens to the wind in the willows and the crickets singing in a rhythm like breathing. After awhile the drowning seeps into the background before he floats away to nothing. He smiles honeysuckle,rose and gardenia. Will hears a soft voice humming than singing. Will turns over onto his stomach placing his head into his hands. They dry grass scratches his bare legs and stomach as his t-shirt scrunches up. He wiggles shifting it down. He watches the shadow in the window. It looks like the kitchen._

_The empath sees two shadows then the become solid. One is an older woman with dark gray hair pulled into a messy bun washing dishes. She is talking to a younger woman with dark curly hair pulled back into a braid. The younger woman looks up and waves at him. Will smiles waving back. The woman smiles blowing a kiss to him and the_ empath _giggles. He throws one back she catches and tucks into her heart._

_"Will! Come on baby! Time to clean up!"_

_"Okay, Momma!"_

* * *

Will feels the urge to stay and urge to flee the memory or is it a dream. His eyes open to the sight of a hospital room and the steady sound of beeping. He moves his head looking to his left and there sits Hannibal in the chair asleep.He flops his head to the right and jumps a bit when he sees Abigail staring at him over her book. She smiles laying down the book. She shyly stands next to the bed before she hesitantly takes his fingertips in hers. She appears to relax when he doesn't pull way.

"Hey." she whispers

"Hey." he whispers back smiling. It was an unexpected feeling to see someone waiting for him to wake up. It was a good feeling that someone cared enough to be there.

Abigail returns the smile.

"How to you feel?"

"Lost.What happened? Where am I?"

"You had a heart attack. After Hannibal made sure you were stable he made arrangements for a cardiologist from John Hopkins to examine you."

"Am I at John Hopkins?"

She shakes her head.

"You're in Baltimore but at a private hospital. You had a leaky valve. They had to do surgery.Hannibal will be able to tell you all the details."

She squeezes his hand. The door slides open and the nurse from Alaska walks in with a cup and a coke. She smiles at Will and hands the coke to Abigail.

"Thanks, Shelby."

Shelby smiles at her before turning her gaze at Will.

"I am glad you are awake. How are ya feeling?"

"Better,ma'am."

"I'll let the staff know you're awake."

She leaves softly sliding the door closed.Will attention returns to Abigail. She is looking at Hannibal as though she is willing the man to wake up.It appears to work when the older man starts to rouse from his slumber. He blinks and looks over at Will. He smiles getting out of the chair and stretching slightly.

He places his hand on Will's forehead in a loving gesture. Will closes his eyes willing himself to relax and enjoy the moment as much as anyone can in a hospital.

"How are you feeling?"

Will raises a hand to his chest feeling the itch as the incision repairs itself. He gently scrapes his nails down before he reaches the end Hannibal removes his hand.

"Itchy. Sore. Heaviness in my chest."

"I'll make sure you get some pain medication for the pain but at the moment you need to cough."

"Cough?"

"Yes to make sure there is no mucus building up in your lungs. Here."

Hannibal hands him a huge heart shaped pillow. Will looks up at him with a perplexed look. He then cocks an eyebrow.

"Is this a subtle hint?"

Hannibal smirks.

"No. Hold the pillow against your chest. Take two deep breaths and then cough. It will help with the discomfort when you do this."

The older man raises the head of the bed sitting the empath up. Will hugs the pillow against his chest. He takes two deep breaths and coughs.It hurts and very little mucus is expelled. Will grimaces and groans. If he wasn't in pain before, he is now.

The nurses come in with their clipboards and medications. Hannibal nods moving out of the way so they can evaluate Will as the poke and prod.Will's mind wanders as he listens to the staff. His mind snags on the question of how did Hannibal give permission for the surgery since Will was out cold? He knows the cannibal has his ways but wouldn't the hospital and the doctor be concerned with legality?

The staff leaves the room after the pain medication is given with promises of broth and a chance to start walking around the room once shift change was over. Will feels dreamy and pleasantly numb from the medication. He looks at Hannibal.

"How did you get permission to have the surgery done?"

Hannibal and Abigail look at each other.The older man looks back at Will.

"I'll explain that when you are more lucid. But the surgery was the right thing to do."

"You mean to keep me dependent and under your thumb?"

"No, it saved your life. But for now, you need your rest."

Will feels like a huge piece of the puzzle is being dangled in front of him but he can't grasp it. The old feeling of a leap of intuition is waiting for him to make. As the wave of medicinal numbness washes over the empath his eyes close as he ponders what the mystery could be.

 


	13. Christmas Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's little more than an interlude since it actually propels the story. This is for JoJa who requested a new chapter for xmas. Hope your Christmas is wonderful!

Will is watching the twinkling of the lights from miniature Chrismas tree Abigail and Hannibal brought him today. Being in Hannibal's detox program had made time inconsequential, he had no idea that Christmas season was in full swing until he awoke from his surgery. The nurses are wearing scrubs with elves and Santa patterns on them and some of the staff wears Santa hats or pins.

Will is a prickly sensitive empath and the idea of mass marketing, overcrowded shops, and awkward holiday parties are not his idea of Christmas fun. However, the season itself is one of his favorites. When Will lived in Wolf Trap with his furry family, he brings in a fresh evergreen tree from his property. There were treats for the dogs and hot beverages for himself. His favorite activity at Christmas is attending Christmas eve mass. Not a particularly religious person, belief and worship a private affair for oneself, he enjoyed the ritual. It may have been the most consistent tradition he and his father engaged in every Christmas. The low lighting, the quiet reflection, and the Christmas carols brought peace to his mind. This year would be different of course since he was sill recovering from his surgery.

The small Christmas Tree was a pleasant surprise. He knows Hannibal and Abigail were expecting a gruff grumpy begrudging acceptance of the holiday decoration. Will knows his genuine heartfelt a response from him was a surprise to them.It brings an amused smile to his lips that reaches his eyes. when he thinks about it. The reaction is so unpredictable that the empath felt suspicion well up in Hannibal; even though there was no indication in his demeanor. Let him wonder and stew about it; it was his turn anyway Will chuckles to himself.

They assured Will they would return later after the psychiatrist prepared a traditional Lithuanian Christmas eve feast for a few friends. Shelby, his private nurse is staying behind, even though Will assured her, he wouls be well cared for in her absence. The empath assumed there must be family and friends she would rather be around. Instead, Shelby smiled at him as she saying she preferred to stay longer. She doesn't sit with Will to keep him company but she does check on him regularly. Those times they make some small talk which sometimes moves into deeper conversations involving world affairs, local news and books they've read. Like Hannibal Shelby's presence is calming to Will.

Will hears a quiet knock on the door and heavy footsteps enter. Will turns his head to see Ben Thomas standing there awkwardly. He visibly relaxes when he sees Will smiles at him.

"Hey, Ben! Long time since I've seen you."

"Well..I've been working and after our last few conversations, I figured it might be best if I was scarce for a while. I am glad to see you getting the help you need."

The burly redhead pulls up a chair. He winces when it screeches across the floor. He gives Will a sheepish grin as he fidgets to get comfortable. Will rolls the phrase around in his mind "help you need".

"What did you mean "help you need??"

Ben holds up a hand to slow Will down with a look that says hold on now.

"Now..now..I meant help for your heart."

Will knows Hannibal would not have discussed his medical history with Ben..anyone for that matter. A sudden insight flashes inside his bone fort.

"Did you pay for the MRI?"

"The one you never did? Yea I did."

"Why did you do it anonymously?"

"Becuase you doubted I was your friend..which I am by the way. And when someone attempts to help you..you can be well.."

"An asshole?"

Will's voice sounds like it's about to teeter off into the laugher.

"Hey, you said it not me, buddy. But yea..an asshole.A really big one..ginormous...bigger than.."

Will chuckles holding hands up in surrender.

"Okay, I get it! Thanks for the subtle and gentle way you put that.."

The empath and the P.I. laugh together as Will holds onto his heart pillow clasped tightly against his chest. It hurts like a son a' bitch but it feels so good as well.

"That really hurts but I needed a good laugh."

The two exchange smiles as a silence descends on the room. All Will hears the muted noise from the hallway.

"Thanks for paying for the tests, Ben."

"No biggie."

"You just took out of pocket change?"

"Well you know I am a secret billionaire, who works for shits and giggles."

Will notices the packaged wrapped in crinkled Christmas wrapping.

"What do you have there?"

The P.I. is interrupted by a gentle knock as Shelby enters. She smiles at Will before it changes to a look of recognition when she sees Ben. She recovers well putting on a softer smaller smile for him.Will can't see Ben's face but he feels a slight tension in the air.

"Hello, Ben."

"Hello, Shelby."

The nurse looks at Will.

"Is there anything you need?"

Will shakes his head no. The nurse smiles nodding her head and leaving the room.The empath looks at the PI.

"You know each other, I take it?"

"Yea we met. Nice Lady."

Will knows something is up but decides to keep his nose in his own business at the moment. He blinks to find Ben holding out the gift to him.Will smiles taking it.

"You didn't have to you know."

"I know. Go ahead and open it."

Wil tears off the paper to find a beautiful antique box. He opens it to find letters inside. He pulls them out shuffling through the stack. Some of the letters are marked returned to a sender and others have never been mailed at all. The sender is a Rose S. Watson, the return address from different cities, states, and even other countries but they all are addressed to Will Graham.Some of the letters have a correct address on them, some have his father's parents address and others have no address at all.Will feels his brows furrow.He looks up to find a nervous looking Ben.

"Who is Rose Watson?"

Ben licks his lips before he answers.

"She is your mother."

"My mother? My mother's name was Ruby Graham.How did you get these?"

"Dr. Lecter asked me to find your mom since your dad had passed. He needed your family medical history for the heart doc here. But her name is Rose Watson. Your parents were never married."

"Is that how Hannibal got permission for the surgery?"

Ben nods sighing as he sits back. The P.I. squirms under Will's gaze.

"Um..Your mother didn't leave you, Will."

"She didn't ?"

Will thumbs through the stack at the side listening to a whisper of rustling paper. He's excited, curious, afraid and a little angry with his parents.

"Your mom and dad hooked up when she was a sophomore in high school and your dad worked at a local garage. Then you came along but your parents never married.I don't know why. You lived with your mother and her parents till you were three. Your mom graduated high school and enlisted in the army. She wanted to go to college and she needed money to go. Rose wanted a better life for you both. Unfortunately, she couldn't bring you with her to basic training. Rose planned to have her parents care for you until after she was assigned.The plan was to have them bring you to her."

"What about my dad? Did he have a say in this?"

"From what I understand your dad was still sowing his wild oats. He would send money once in a while and stop by for a visit now and again.He was upset when he found out your mom was planning on taking you with her. They exchanged words several times over it. During the time when your mother was away in boot camp, her mother had a heart attack. Your grandparents had to ask your father's parents to help as she recovered."

"Then my dad took me."

"Yea. Y'all were off the grid by the time Rose was able to come home. Both sets if your grandparents called the police. They put out flyers with a reward but nothing came out of it.So Rose served overseas for awhile, whenever she had a spare moment she tried to find you and your father. After the army, she went to college and graduated. She was still looking for you, she even hired people to help. She hoped you would look for her when you were older."

Will looks out of the window at the lights of the city. He feels his mind dip into his memory. When he was younger Will would dream his mother would come back to them; to him.

"I did but dad told me her name was Ruby Graham. I never could find her and by the time I had more resources I just thought..she didn't want me. She abandoned me."

Ben catches Will's eyes with his.

"She didn't pal. She was overjoyed to hear about you and to know where you were.Dr. Lecter went and visited with her. "

Will mumbles, "was he ever going to tell me?"

"I think he was waiting for you to recover. But she gave me these when we first spoke. Your mother wanted you to have them so you would know that she didn't forget you. Rose knew you might not want to meet her but she wanted you to have something from her."

Will sniffs and looks anywhere but at Ben or the letters.

"Thanks for coming to see me and for these."

Will holds up the letters before laying them gently down in his lap.Ben smiles getting up.

"I am your friend Will and if you ever need me..call me.Merry Christmas, Will."

Will nods and waves lightly as Ben leaves the room. He looks at the stack of letters.The anticipation is palpable. He waits a few heart beats more before opening the first one. A smell wafts up that smells familiar. He puts his nose to the letter. It smelt comforting underneath the dust and age of the letters.

* * *

 

**_Later_ **

Will reads for a couple hours. He feels like he can now hear his mother's voice and feel her touch. She gave him news about her life but his grandparents as well. Rose poured out her grief at his loss, her hope of his return and her love for him always.

Will's father was not an abusive man but this attention and love are what he always longed for when he was a child. Emotions flit quickly through his mind. Will can't process them all right now but one. He wants. Will wants to see his mother...They sound so much alike he can hear his voice intermingle with her's, as he reads her thoughts and emotions.

He hears someone clear their throat. He looks up to find Hannibal and Abigail standing at the end of the bed. He nods at them before Will returns to finish the letter in hand. He knows he is being rude but he can't help himself. He feels Hannibal move closer to the bed. Will looks up folding and putting the letter away.

"What are you reading Will?"

Hannibal's hand pauses above Will's hand. He isn't sure if Hannibal was reaching for Will or the letter.

"Ben came by to visit. He brought these letters from my mother. I assume you knew he had them."

A flash of irritation flashes across Hannibal's face before returning to a placid expression.

"I was unaware of them and that Mr. Thomas had them."

Will reach out taking Hannibal's hand. The doctor startles at the touch which makes Will chuckle.

"What is she like?"

Will tilts his head looking into Hannibal's eyes. Hannibal looks at Abigail. She nods heading out of the room.Hannibal takes a seat on the bed.The doctor smiles as he eyes seem to remember.

"She is an intelligent stubborn suspicious woman."

Will grins as Hannibal looks him a point.

"Sound like anyone we know? You get your imagination and them the way you think from your mother. You also received her altruistic nature. Rose is quiet and a little shy. She owns several dogs she has rescued."

"Really? Are you kidding me?"

Hannibal raises his hands looking heavenward.

"I wish I was but no..though her family is not as large as yours was."

"I wonder where the empathy came from?"

"Your maternal father apparently. In fact, you are his namesake. He was a teacher at the high school.I believe he taught history."

"I wish I remembered him."

Hannibal nods. They are quiet for a moment.

"Were you going to all me?"

"Yes.I wanted to inform you sooner but your mother wanted you to fully recover before I did. She was concerned about the stress would do to you."

Will nods his head."Do I look like her?

"Yes, actually. She is a very beautiful woman. She was truly stunning as a young woman, I would imagine. Apparently, your curls and waves is a family trait in her family. She says your eyes are from your father. She and your grandfather were petite..little like you. She said you have your father's smile and expression. She said you were blessed with both their tempers."

Will squeeze Hannibal's hand.

"Thank you for finding her.For..everyhing..except the being kept prisoner bit.."

Hannibal smiles and preens while Will rolls his eyes looking away.

"I would like to meet my mother soon."

"You could meet her right now if you would like."

"Really? Like, call her?"

"Do you want to meet her?"

"yes!"

"Then give me a moment to make the arrangements."

Hannibal leaves the room. Will pushes down his hair. He feels anxious but he knows if he waits he'll talk himself out of it. Will hears the door open his heart stops. Shelby comes in with a drink in her hand. Will smiles as his heart rate slows. The nurse places the drink on the table. Will is watching the door. He hears his name then a hand brushes the curls back from his forehead and a hand comes to lay against his cheek. The empath inhales something familiar and he knows.

Will leans his head into the palm as he looks at the nurse now sitting on the edge of the bed. She has a gentle smile that trembled as her eyes look into his.

"It's you. Rose Shelby Watson."

"I always liked Shelby better than Rose." She says smiling.

"You're a nurse... you're my nurse..why?"

Shelby snorts a little and huff a breath.

"When Hannibal offered me this job to fill in for your last nurse.I think he had to go on medical leave. I couldn't turn that down Will. Even if you never wanted to meet me, to be close to my baby boy again..what mother wouldn't jump at that?"

Shelby draws Will to her as she holds him. Will doesn't know who cries harder as they stay like that for seems like seconds.They hear the door open. They pull apart. Will sees a crying Abagail with Hannibal handing her a new kleenex. Even Hannibal looks like he could succumb to the emotional wave sweeping the room.

"When Ben found Ms. Watson for me she was working as a hospice nurse.I offered her Barney's position."

Will just leans against his mother. His eyes drift toward the clock on the wall.

"It's midnight. It's Christmas. What a Christmas it is." Will mumbles.

"God bless us, everyone!" Abigail says giggling. "I couldn't resist it feels like a Dickens story."

Hannibal nods smiling. "Indeed it does Abigail."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought custodial kidnapping would be a plausible reason Will's mother was not in his life and the transit nature of their lifestyle.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay not a lot of action more dialogue but this is a transitional chapter. We gotta have it or ya'll be like WTF happened? lol  
> no beta as per usual.

 

Will is looking outside as the sun shines through trees making the remaining clumps of snow drip and fall.It's still cold but the sun gives the illusion of warmth,that spring is just around the corner. He feels strange today. He's really not at peace or at unrest either. He's neither elated or anxious. It's a place that Will had rarely, if ever, finds himself in his life. The feeling of content in the between;almost dare he say, happy.

He sighs closing his eyes using his legs to clutch the blanket closer. Will mindlessly scratches his chest where the portable telemetry monitor is attached to his chest. The suckers make his skin itch but he has to wear it for a few weeks as they keep an eye on how well his heart is recuperating. There were rumors they were going to release him. But where and who he'll go with,Will hasn't the foggiest. It seems these days all decisions are out of his hands.Will's mind drift into a light slumber,his favorite past time of late.

  
For weeks as Will gathers his strength he dreams vividly. At first he feels like they are daydreams that have slipped into his night dreams. They are no longer totally nightmarish. Face it,Will will always have some form of dark dream lurking inside his head but luckily not as intense as before.

* * *

 

_Will is standing at his window in wolf trap holding a mug of coffee looking out of the snow falling. He looks wistful and forlorn as he watches himself.He hears quiet foot steps behind him. He looks over his shoulder to find Hannibal standing behind him. His attire is formal like it was in Baltimore,when their relationship was growing from patient and doctor toward something more._

_"Do you remember this day?"_

_Will shrugs "Why should I? Seems like any other day."_

_"But it's not. Try to remember."_

_Will walks closer to the ghost of days past. There is a heaviness to his breathing and a feverish look in his eyes._

_"I am sick. Which you failed to mention to me."_

_Hannibal tips his head and smirks._

_"Yes and..."_

_Will sighs tired of this little game already. What does this man want from him? Will's eyes drift toward the calendar by the sink.His eyes widen as his mouth forms an O._

_"It's my birthday."_

_"Yes it is."_

_Hannibal smiles looking at Will from the other side of the shadow image.Suddenly, the light goes from mid morning to dusk. The pack is barking loudly as several cars descend on his drive way. Will gets up placing his whiskey on the table beside him. He picks up his glasses as he moves toward the door. He opens it and the dogs barrel out into the night._

_Will stands on the porch with Hannibal watching the concerned frown lay on his face. Several people Alana and Jack emerge from one vehicle as Beverly, Price and Zeller get out of another car. He sees Hannibal get out of his vehicle rounding to the back opening the trunk._

_Will heads down the stairs._

_"What's the emergency, Jack."_

_The now Will looks at Hannibal as he smiles watching the scene replayed. Will smiles despite himself as he moves closer to the older man._

_"I remember this night.this memory..It's the surprise party you brought to my door."_

_"I had too. You forgot to come and cancel your appointment."_

_"No you didn't. You could have not bothered at all with it."_

_"But I wanted to do it,Will. These small occasions are worth celebrating even for you."_

_Will chuckles._

_"For a serial killer cannibal you can be so sentimental,so romantic even."_

_"Why does that surprise you?"_

_Will shrugs looking around watching the memory continue to play. His memory self looks embarrassed but pleased by the gesture as he ushers in the small gathering of people. Will from the past holds the door open waiting for Hannibal to enter the house. He is the last person but Will's anticipation is visible the way he fidgets at the door._

_"I know there is many facets it to you. Just..I don't know..killer and sentimental seem juxtaposition to each other. But when I think about it..I can see that part of you in most of our exchanges."_

_The two men turn slightly toward each other and smile._

_"Did I ever say thank you?"_

_"Yes you did. You are always courteous when you think about it or when you aren't afraid. You understand though there are many memories like this you have avoided returning to..why is that?"_

_" I wanted to be angry with you. I felt justified. Because I empathize and understand people's motivations, I have a difficult time staying mad at someone who has wronged me. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to show you how hurt I was."_

_"I did know, how hurt you were."_

_"Did you? Really?"_

_"I did but my plan was in action and it had to play out before I could revise it."_

_"Did you ever considering..just..not carrying out by any chance. "_

_"I did."_

_Will eyes bore into Hannibal's but he knows he won't an answer. It's just a shadow self of the real hing anyway. The shadow can't answer that question because Will sub conscious hasn't figured it out yet._

* * *

 Will's flutter up open. He awakes to a clear blue sky. He lets his awareness stay some where in his mind to the hospital room. 

"There you are your head in the clouds like when you were little."

Will jumps a little but looks up smiling at his mother standing in the doorway. She is leaning against the frame with arms crossed, smiling. Shelby seems to  smile all the time. She lights up a room. Will wonders how she does it;staying so sunny in dark times.

"Hey Shelby!"

They agreed that Will could her Shelby instead of mother or mom,even though once in a while a mama slips out. She understood that they didn't know each other that way. Shelby had the memories of when he was a baby and toddler but Will's came in the form of dreams.When he does slip out an endearment, she graciously ignores it or at least doesn't mention it because she knows any attention would make Will  self conscious.

To be understood by someone, how sweet it is. Will knew why people sought that connection and why Hannibal, who was very alone, is pulled toward Will. But to experience the connection, the understanding is something else. Yes, he and Hannibal have an easy connection that is a natural flow between them. Unfortunately, Hannibal is disconnected from his emotions. He intellectually understand the feelings and the whys of it all but he never can feel the true emotion of joy or emotional pain. To really stand in someone else shoes but his mother can because she is like him in many ways. She just knows what needs to be said and when to say it.

Will now truly understands why Hannibal sought Will out,despite Will's apparent rejection.

Shelby walks in and looks at his tray of uneaten food and looks at Will like all mothers look at a child who refuses to eat. Will chuckles pointing at the cold congealed meal.

"I can't eat that. It's horrible." he says smiling at her.

 Shelby walks over and runs her hand through Will's curls. Will leans into the touch. Another thing about his mother,she is very affectionate. She touches gently and often. Shelby is that way with everyone not just her son but more so with Will than anyone else. Will's father was not a man who enjoyed physical affection or accepted it readily from his son.

"You are just spoiled rotten by Dr Lecter's cooking. I say I don't blame you, I would be too. But you need to eat to keep up you r strength."

"I tell him that often as well,Shelby."

A smooth accented voice has Shelby turning toward the door. She smiles at Hannibal who stands with a insulated bag.

"Well doctor's orders should be followed. I'll remove this so you and Will can eat and visit."

She picks up the tray leaving the room quietly. The two men watch her leave. Hannibal turns back around entering the room with the bag setting it on the table.

"It's a good thing I brought lunch by isn't?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

Their conversations has moved from clinical to amicable and now they are conversing like they did before everything went sideways. Will is actually relieved that their conversation is no longer filled with spite from his side. They will need to brooch the topic of Hannibal framing him for murder as well as the forced alcohol treatment but not at the moment. At this  moment it feels good to pretend everything was like it was before. After the meal is finished, Hannibal convinces Will to move back to his bed to fully rest. As the older man smooths down the cover's at the empath's feet,he looks up to see Will staring at him.

 "Yes William?"

"Where am I going to live when I am released?"

"Well." Hannibal sits gently down at the foot of the bed. "The doctors would like you to continue your recovery here.That way he can monitor your progress. I would like you to stay with me or other arrangements can be made. Your mother is here and a nurse. I feel very confident if I put you in an apartment with her you would be fine."

"But you don't like that idea at all do you?"

Will crosses his arm looking into Hannibal's eyes.He maintains the eye contact because this is very important decision.

"I..." Hannibal looks uncomfortable and the feeling rises in Will's chest to soothe the older man but in a strategic game like this there can be no weakness shown.

"I am responsible for your condition. I want to to take care of you William. I want us to start over. Wipe the slate clean,so we can be friends again."

Will sighs looking out the window. The sky no longer sunny but turning to pinks and violets as twilight falls.

"What about Shelby?"

"I plan to continue her employment until you are fully recovered or she seeks employment else where.I think,however,that is unlikely;I know she wants a relationship with her as well."

"If I stay..no more manipulating me to alienate people from my life. I have very few relationships as it is. I can't go through that again."

Hannibal merely nods.Will is not sure that is full agreement but it will do for now.

"Also, no forced alcohol recovery. I feel sure I am fully detoxed by now but in the future..if something happens."

Hannibal smiles before Will realizes what he said.

"I should go and let you rest. Until tomorrow."

"Thanks for the meal and until tomorrow."

Hannibal pick up the insulated bag as well as his coat he leaves an quiet foot. Will hears the older man stop speaking with the staff. Will listens waiting for his mother to come in and see him. After her shift,Shelby often stays speaking with Will. He looks forward to this time with her.As expected she enters with a quiet knock.

"Hey. How are you feeling."

"Okay."

"Good. The Dr. Lecter seemed in a good mood when he left. I take it you have come to an agreement about where you will stay after your release? By the way the doctors are talking about next week letting you go him."

She pats his leg smiling. Will nods. Even though his mother is easy to speak with Will stills has those moments where he feels awkward. He feels like he'll hurt her feeling for his decision to stay with Hannibal. She'll be there of coarse but it would not be the same if they were alone. Will doesn't know why he feels this way.He supposes trying to please a parent is a biological imperative for some people,himself included. He sighs before speaking.

"Yeah. I am going to stay with him."

"I think that is a wise choice."

"You aren't?" Will waves his hand looking for a word.

"Aren't what,honey?"

"Disappointed that I'll won't be staying with you alone."

"Oh no,sweetheart. I'll still be here with you. I think with everything you have been through, you need not worry about me. I am happy to be with you anyehere you want to be. After you recover we'll be able to spend more one on one time."

Shelby holds up a pack of playing cards she was holding in her hands.

"So you ready to play some gin rummy?"

"I am in fact I am."

"Good. I'll shuffle you cut."

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special to JoJa for providing the Hannibal menu (because I cook more like Will, simple). Other special thanks for emptyheart who beta this chapter! Any mistakes are mine; glaringly so.

Will sits in front of the fire in Hannibal's home in Alaska. He idly scratched the scar on his chest. He leans his head back, stretching his neck watching the shadows undulated in the fire's glow.  He tries to capture the feeling of peace he had before the mail came today. If a bluebird represents happiness, then a sleeping cat lying in the sun represents contentment. Will feels it lying on on his chest purring away. It's an emotion he begrudging acquiesced to recently. Until…

 

He sighs through his nose. _Some days I really, really hate my fucking life._ Will thinks as he stares at a letter from Shelby. It's not that he doesn't want to see his mother. In fact, he was looking forward to her visit, he felt something was... not right about her. Something vague twitching in the dark in the depths of his imagination that keeps trying to crawl up into his gray matter. Every time he looks at Shelby, it was like looking at glass with a huge smudge across it. There were things that were painfully clear, but others obscured just enough to be annoying, though not so annoying that it made Will want to get up and go clean the window.

 

Will is so tired of looking for the truth. In fact, de facto acceptance has become his modus operandi since his surgery and subsequent recovery.  Unlike before, when Will had only himself to depend on, he grumpily accepts the gentle care.  Does he dare think that the careful attention is given with love?

 

There are always lines drawn in the sand of Will Graham's mind. Conditions that have to be in place before changes are accepted into his mental fortress, such as help from others. As long as help is offered without pity, the empath accepts the help. Pride is a hurdle of his, coupled together with southern values of independence, that Will struggles with more often than not.

 

Will had felt guilty for the attention he received, but like any good hostage, he gradually began to empathize with his captor. The empath finds he enjoys someone thinking of him as more than a divining rod for a serial killer's motivations.

 

These past few months... actually coming up on a year anniversary, since placing himself into Hannibal's dutiful care, Will has thought of himself as a person. A person that deserves people to meet his needs as he meets theirs.

 

Will accepts Hannibal's tokens of affection; some in word and others in deed. He finds he slips easily into domestication under Hannibal's ministrations. These ministrations are in the form of small touches and thoughtful gestures.The empath is so malleable in Hannibal's skilled hands that he has not made any mention of returning to his home.Lurking on the outskirts of Will’s mind, he understands the not yet seen risks and various endings this relationship could have. He understands the co-dependency that Hannibal has fostered between them.  The cannibal has unwittingly ensnared himself into the elegant symbiotic relationship of his own creation.

 

This amuses Will more than he can say at times. It is fun to watch Hannibal struggle with how much Will has changed the cannibal.  How much Hannibal needs Will's presence from day to day, if only briefly. Will has awoken to Hannibal observing him as he slept.  Sometimes the man is sketching Will, other times Hannibal's eyes touch where his hands long to go but won't out of courtesy.

 

During the first months of Will's recovery, Shelby, Abigail, and Hannibal waited on him hand and foot. Hannibal even gave Will a silver bell to ring if the empath needed anything. Will rarely used the thing unless he was bored and needed entertainment; such as calling Hannibal "Jeeves" and requesting his velvet smoking jacket and pipe. Hannibal would then confiscate the bell until Will understood that it was not a toy.

 

However, for Christmas Hannibal did gift Will with a royal purple velvet smoking jacket with silk black lapels and belt to tie around the waist. Will was so tickled he laughed until he cried.  It wasn't that funny, but for Hannibal to actually buy him this… a tangible object from their private banter was a surprise. Hannibal was pleased with the effect of the gift, so much so that when Will gave the cannibal a pair of white gloves and a chauffeur's cap with “Jeeves” embroidered on it,  Hannibal actually wore them once.

 

As the months progressed, Abigail decided to move in over the tavern on a semi permeate basis until she decided where she wanted to attend college. Shelby decided to move back to New Orleans for a while. She felt Hannibal and Will needed some time alone. Will found this curious. He mused whether this was truly her idea or a seed planted by Hannibal. He was reassured time and time again that this was Shelby's idea, but Will still had his doubts.

 

Doubts. It seemed Will was doomed to have doubts and suspicions the rest of his days his previous work. His days profiling had left him entrenched in sketchy dealings with characters with vague moral standing. An example was Hannibal. Will had begun to acknowledge that Hannibal would always be manipulative to a fault. The man was ruled by his intellectual curiosity to the point of compulsion, without even a conscious thought. Curiosity and manipulation are the marrow of the cannibal's bones.  The need to control everything and everyone in Hannibal's domain is a driving force.  It was a cog placed in the cannibal’s mental works ever since his sister's death.

 

When Hannibal finally explained about his sister's death and how he had unknowingly devoured her, there was no doubt in Will's mind that Hannibal needed obsessive control as if it was life itself. Without it, the beast within would tear and rend everything and everyone in its path.

 

Hannibal's insistence on controlling everything and everybody, could be suffocating and infuriating at times. Will admits that Hannibal does take care of what he deems his with devotion and care.  Sometimes even adoration. As with everything there comes a cost for such devotion, and that cost is strict, unwavering loyalty to Hannibal. Complete autonomy was something that was a hindrance to Hannibal's divine and perfect plan for each person living in his sphere of influence.

 

To be Hannibal's plaything was a temporary state. The plaything would either earn their release back into the wilds of society or—if they became insufferable and boring—as part of the next dinner party menu.  If Hannibal deemed someone useful to him, they were used regularly with rewards for satisfactory performance or reprimands for under performance. Sometimes useful people were put into storage until needed. If a _something_ to Hannibal became a _someone,_ they were among the elite.  They crossed the threshold into the sanctuary of Hannibal's undivided and obsessive attention. Their needs are met and desires anticipated; their enemies dealt with swiftly as the person is kept safe from the monsters outside, as well as, Hannibal’s  own beast.

But disappointing the cannibal would mean the harshest of punishments varying from the physiological to the psychological. If the offender was lucky, they could earn their way back into good gracious by penance to Hannibal. If not, then they were thrown into the black and hot pit of nothing.  Completely and utterly alone with no light from Hannibal's world. A mournful place indeed.

 

Will still struggled with the desire to leave or stay until the day he realized Hannibal will never let Will go no matter what he does. Even an act of betrayal would encourage the harshest of punishments and penance would be required, but Will would never be thrown into the abyss. Not now.  Not when Hannibal let himself be trapped in his own symbiotic web. A dependency encouraged by hearth, home, and family. The family gathered... hand picked by Hannibal himself and included Abigail and Shelby. Hannibal and Abigail were chosen and Shelby was blood. But now…

 

Will sighs looking at the recent letter. He was in the process of reading old letters from his mother when this new one came. On his lap sat several envelopes and pieces of paper that Will was reading intently. Written by  Shelby, these letters spanned from the time Will was kidnapped by his father till his incarceration a couple of years ago. Will is reading all the letters in order by date and year.

 

He has limited himself to a few a day. It's like a delicious story that you can't wait to finish but want to savor it as long as you can.

 

Will is exhausted and stares into the fire. His toes wiggle in red toed socks in front of the fire.  There is a box of letters sitting beside his chair. On one side is a coffee table that holds a glass red wine. Something Hannibal actively encourages for Will's heart health. Will decides he needs whiskey to ease this particular ache.

 

The empath never really has acquired a taste for wine. The wine glass feels out of place in his hand like a fine china tea cup. It makes him feel like the proverbial bull in a china shop. With whiskey in a solid heavy bottom glass, Will feels grounded and relaxed. The empath feels more like himself when he drinks whiskey.  Not like wine that makes Will feel like a kid playing dress up his father's clothes.

 

Will swallows a bitter taste down. The letters were a comfort when Shelby left for home, but now they are Shelby's undoing. The handwriting in this recent letter is different from the previous ones. Little nuances that an experienced investigator would take notice of and normal people may not. A sinking feeling plummeted his stomach to the floor. Maybe he was wrong? Maybe he was being paranoid... more than usual, but Will knows all too well he is not.

 

All the tales Shelby told and all the information she gave were genuine. She was not lying, but she was not his mother. Did Hannibal know? Why? Will knew manipulation and curiosity could have played a part, but even Hannibal's cruelty would not extend to this deception, could it?

 

Will suspected that the monster in Hannibal would never let the man love. He would never be able to taste the sweetness and bitterness of this fruit. In Will's heart, however, fluttered the hope that Hannibal could love.

 

If Hannibal knew about Shelby or even orchestrated this relationship from the beginning with that fucking curiosity driving the plan forward… there was no love or depth to Hannibal's soul. No hope for them. No hope for Will. This revelation would kill any relationship, especially one as lethal as theirs could be.

 

Will feels Hannibal's eyes on him and his ears turn red. He can't figure out why his ears always turn hot when he knows Hannibal is looking his direction. It's almost like an evolutionary trait hanging on to alert the empath that a cannibalistic serial killer is there. This warning system hasn't helped much in Will's opinion.  He is still here in the predator's lair. A frog in water building up to a slow boil and he sits there unconcerned about the temperature change.

 

"Yeeesss?" Will says as he folds the offending letter, placing it on top of the pile. He breathes slowly not to tip off the cannibal that something is troubling him. Will wants to investigate this anomaly further before confronting Hannibal.

 

Hannibal walks in with a pad of paper and pen. He sits beside Will's chair.

 

"Are you planning something?" Will asks before picking up his wine glass... crystal... carefully taking a sip. He keeps his eyes on the fire and his voice neutral. It appears he has picked up some acting traits from the man sitting near him.

 

"Yes, how does this sound for a menu? To start with a salad, a semi-cooked one with a melody of blanched vegetables like asparagus, mungo beans, and slices of mango in a mango-ginger-sesame oil dressing with fresh herbs on a bed of arugula.

 

After that a white soup of tomato, which is essentially mashed tomatoes, soup vegetables like celery, carrots, leek, and some onions and parsley, plus a bit of minced meat. Cooked together for 4 hours, pureed and then drained for hours through a white cloth napkin without pressure till only the whitish tomato water is collected.  Served with a baked piece of polenta and some seafood as inlay. As the main dish, I'd think it will be steamed fish with a green Asian herb sauce on rice seasoned with seaweeds, some of them fried, so they add crispiness and some almonds and cashews to add nutty fats. For dessert, an Italian granità, made with fresh citric juices and blended with a bit of reduced infusion of Earl gray tea seasoned with a bit of cane sugar. Then it is frozen, to be shortly microwaved and then immediately blended and served in a pre-cooled glass, that sits on a bed of ice."

 

Hannibal ends with a flourish of his hand and faraway look in his eyes. The cannibal turns his head looking at Will expectantly.The empath nods.

 

"Sounds good and familiar. What's the occasion?"

 

"It should be. It's your first meal a year ago when you came here from the hospital."

 

"Oh." Will says before adding, "a celebration of sorts."

 

"Yes." Hannibal gives Will an indulgent smile.

 

"Who would have thought."

 

"And what is that, dear Will?"

 

Will smirks chuckling, "You are a sentimental romantic."

 

"And you are not?" Hannibal asks rubbing his index finger across his bottom lip.

 

"Well, I've never said that… I dwell too much on the past not to be a cynical sentimentalist."

 

"An interesting description of your philosophy of life. Can a cynic be sentimental?  The word implies fondness of something or someone remembered."

 

"Yes, a cautious sentimentalist. Because things can never be as they were and the future can be tainted by past views and memories."

 

"Then the cynic is not romantically inclined?"

 

"No, the cynic is romantic which is his undoing. The reality can never be as perfect and soft as the cynic wants it to be.So he readies himself for the storm of disappointment."

 

"How dreary. An unfortunate existence without pleasure."

 

"A cynic can find pleasure, even if it is fleeting."

 

"Then how can he enjoy fleeting pleasure if he is expecting a bitter end?"

 

"Very sparing," smiles Will as he takes another sip of wine.

 

Hannibal smiles looking at Will's profile. "It's hard to believe that I am the optimist in this relationship."

 

"Well...  you are… you always think things will turn out how you want them to or manipulate them into."

 

Hannibal says nothing as he eyes look down at the pad of paper his menu is written on. It's enough of an answer to Will's implied question. How often does Hannibal manipulate the situation and people? All the time, unless he meets something that takes the cannibal by surprise. An unseen or unthought of influence, that is Will. Will's chaotic variable to Hannibal's orderly equation. Everything is mathematical is the saying.

 

They sit in companionable silence till Will feels sleepy. His body has slumped before he registers it. Will sits up and stretches his arms before gathering up all the letters and placing them into the box.

 

"Guess I'll head to bed."

 

"Leave your glass.  I'll to take it the kitchen. Goodnight Will."

 

"Thanks and goodnight to you as well."

 

Will treads quietly to his room, closing the door with a quiet snick. He places the box on the bed. He digs around finding his old cell phone. He sucks in his bottom lip before punching in a number He feels uneasy, so the empath takes the phone into the ensuite bathroom. Will locks the door and starts the shower. He hits send.

 

It rings a few times before a voice answer.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hey, Ben."

 

"Hey yourself, Will! How are you, man? It's been awhile."

 

Will nod his head even though the man can’t see it. "It has. I'm doing well. No more heart attacks.  Say I have a question for you."

 

"Oh. Okay, shoot." There is trepidation in the PI's voice.

 

"Are you sure Shelby is my mother?"

 

A couple of beats of silence. "Does she treat you like a mother? Are you happy to know her?"

 

Will thinks a moment and sighs. "Yes, why?"

 

"Sometimes you just need to take things at face value and let things be, you know?"

 

"I don't know Ben. The alarm has is ringing inside my head.  Is she my mother?"

 

"If there were malicious intentions or actions you would have picked up on it Will. You know people.  Be happy for once in your life for fuck's sake."

 

"Why won't you answer my question? If she is not, is Shelby even her real name? Is she even related to me?"

 

"Have you read all the letters?"

 

"Why?"

 

"Have you?"

 

"No. I am half way through."

 

"You may want to skip to the last few."

 

"Did you read them?"

 

"No, but I can guess what they might contain."

 

"Care to elaborate?"

 

"No. No, I don't. If you want that you may need to speak to Dr. Lecter."

 

"Well, that is not reassuring." A frustrated huff follows. "Is this her address? Can you verify that?"

 

Will read the address to Ben.

 

"Yes. That is correct."

 

"Okay. Thanks for nothing Ben."

 

"Will!"

 

"What?"

 

"Don't be rash in whatever you planning."

 

"Too late for that."

 

Will hangs up before opening the bathroom door and looking out into his room. He didn't think he would find Lecter but it doesn't hurt to check. Will closes the door again and undresses getting into the lukewarm shower.

  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know...I know...forever right?! I have a love hate relationship with this piece. I struggle with it. Anyway... beta by the wonderful emptyheart...

Will set out before dawn with his fishing gear and the last one of the letters from Shelby.  He left a short note for Hannibal to ensure no interruption.  He fished for a bit while he gathered up his courage to read them.  The burble of the rushing water focused his mind. His anxiety and tension broke over the river rocks. His trepidation bubbled up, foaming on the surface of the water before being carried away by the current. Will drew in a breath of dewy air and closed his eyes to listen to the sybaritic feel of the gentle breeze in his hair. When Will opened his eyes again, he expected to find the raven stag standing there chuffing white fog from its mouth but it wasn’t there. Nothing was there; no stag and no dogs. Winston was somewhere within the foliage flushing out birds and other small woodland creatures. Within his fly fishing rhythm, Will lured and caught a few fish but only kept two worthy of Hannibal’s culinary talents.  He stored them inside the cooler before sitting down for a small lunch of his own making which on the small level was deeply satisfying. Simple. Just like Will likes his life, simple. Easy would be nectar from the gods if he could ever have that as well but he was fated for complex, chaotic, and often painful existence.

 

Will looked at the unopened Pandora’s box. The very last few letter. He wanted to read it. He looked forward to each and every letter he read but now... that happy anticipation was gone. Why couldn’t people keep their grubby fingers out of his life? Why did they feel the need to poke, prod, and pry into something that was Will’s? He picked up a letter, holding the corner edge between the tips of index fingers as it swings and twirls. It seemed like time skipped forward hours before he finally relented and opened the envelope to pull out the contents.

  
  


Several newspaper articles fell out along with a letter. He squinted, looking over the articles and cursing the reporters under his breath as he skimmed each article's contents. He unfolded the letter with a sigh. Like all the others there was a greeting and endearment. Will looked at the date written at the top. It was written when he was first charged with Hannibal’s murders it seems ages since but it was only a couple of years ago. His chest tightened with a spark of resentment as the old wound was slowly picked open. 

Will closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as his mind traveled back to that time. He shook his head to dislodge that memory from taking over this moment. If it runs its full course he’ll never give it his full attention.  Will began again.

 

_ Dear Will, _

_     I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and the man you have become. I know I seem to say this in every letter I write, but I feel as though you need to hear this more than ever. I have followed your career as closely as I could. I must admit some of the dangers you have faced have scared me to death with worry, but that’s to be expected. I will always worry because I will always love you. No matter where you are or what you do, I will always love you. I read these articles accusing you of these terrible crimes and I can’t believe them. Some say you had a terrible illness no one caught until it almost too late and that you weren’t in your right mind. I could see something like that happening. I can tell by the pictures in the paper you don’t take care of yourself right. But deep in my heart, I know that my little boy would never hurt anyone like they say you did. It wasn’t in your nature, Will. I believe you’re innocent. You don’t deserve this.  I wish I could help. I thought about seeking you out over the years after I finally found you; after all, you were grown, man. It never seemed the right time. I’ll admit my own fears and insecurities held me back as well. I am so sorry for that as well. I thought there would be more time. _

_  Now that you are in this terrible place, it would seem especially cruel to visit you. We would lose each other all over again. I am dying from pancreatic cancer. They found it too late. Shelby (my name sake; one of my close cousin’s daughter) urged me to contact you sooner. She offered to bring me up there, but I am too weak now to come. I know these words are cold comfort in the wake of everything. I pray this letter and all the rest make it to you some day and you can forgive me for lack of courage at the end. _

_ My heart aches for you in that darkness you are held. You’ve lived too hard a life for one with such a tender heart. I love you. I have always loved you. I have thought of you everyday, holiday, and birthday. I hope you find some peace and love with someone, some place, some day. _

  
  


_ Love Momma  _

 

Tears hit the paper smearing the ink where they fell, Will finally put the letter beside him before he cried it away.  Feeling a cold nose on his ear and hearing a whine, he opened his eyes to find Winston looking at him. Will buried his hands into Winton’s fur as the dog leaned into Will and finally sat down beside him. Will sobbed until he felt like a rag wrung out. The grief and anger were intertwined so much they morphed into something new. A new emotion that lacked a name and could not be described. Will sat there hollowed out. He couldn’t move. If he moved he would fall apart and float away. Maybe that would be a good thing.

 

Will sat there for what felt like minutes to him, but he realized was actually hours because the sky began to darken. He stood up, groaning with aches from sitting too long and picked up the letter and article, placing them back inside the envelope before picking up everything else putting it away. He whistled for Winston. They headed for home.

 

Hannibal was in the kitchen. Will went inside, placing the cooler beside the counter without greeting or a word. He knew Hannibal was watching him as he walked back to his bedroom and closed the door quietly. He laid down on the bed, not bothering to remove his shoes because he’ll take them off in just a moment, after he rests here for a moment.

 

Will woke when he heard someone knocking his door. He swallowed, giving a gruff “ _ Come in.” _ He didn’t hear anyone, so he assumed it was Hannibal. He felt a weight dip the bed on the other side of him.  Hannibal didn’t speak.

 

“How long have you known?”

 

“Known what?”

 

“Now is not the time for games.”

 

Though Will couldn’t see Hannibal he could feel the other man rubbing long fingers across a furrowed brow. Was he thinking of a lie or a half lie, Will wondered to himself.

 

“Ben informed me your mother was a nurse and he found information on her. He gave me a telephone number and address. At the time I was unable to talk with him about the details of his findings... I was preoccupied.”

 

“With me?”

 

“Yes. When I was able, instead of calling Ben back, I called the number requesting to speak to Shelby; which I did.”

 

“Just not my mother Shelby.”

 

“I was unaware that your mother had passed away and that her name sake was a hospice nurse who cared for until the end. When we spoke, she spoke with such authority about you and fondness that I offered a job. She accepted. Shelby is an excellent nurse, William. From what I gather very much like a replica of your mother.”

 

“What gave her away?”

 

“Little things, but mostly her age. I finally cornered her one night and convinced her to tell me the truth. She felt like she knew you because Shelby and her mother were like sisters. Your mother spoke of you so often and showed her photographs of you all the time.”

 

Will turned over, looking at Hannibal.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Hannibal sighed and looked away. Will had never known a time when Hannibal genuinely felt uncomfortable enough to not make eye contact. Out of everything Hannibal had put Will through this seemed to be the only action he might actually regret.

 

“I wanted you to have something you longed for as a child. I had a mother for a brief time. Though brief, it is a time I would always cherish. Shelby was as close as a reunion that I could give you and, in a small way, your Mother. She never stopped looking for you or loving you, William. If things were different, you may have reunited.”

 

“Oh, like if I wasn’t framed for multiple counts of murder?” 

 

Will threw his words out like acid into Hannibal’s face. He felt his eyes harden and the urge to wrap his fingers around the man’s throat was overwhelming. Maybe he wasn’t the gentle soul his mother thought he was after all.  Hannibal made eye contact, eyes dark with something between lust and pride. It unnerved Will more than if Hannibal’s reaction had been one of fear.

 

“Or, if she did not die of cancer, Will. Fate lent a hand in this as well, not just the actions you believe I did.”

 

“That I believe you did? The actions I know you did, Dr. Lecter.”

 

Will’s voice was calm, considering. Was he really denying this after all this time? Again?

 

“Why can you just admit what you did? I told you no more games! I mean no more games. No more denial. No more omissions of truth. No more. I can’t... I can’t... take this anymore. I can’t be with someone who…”

 

“Who what?”

 

“Treats me like a toy or an experiment.  I can’t believe we are having this conversation again. I need you to go. I need to be alone.”

 

“Will…”

 

“Please. Leave.”

 

“What way do you consider us together, Will?.”

 

Hannibal’s head was cocked, his eyes fastened on Will as he ran a hand down his face. It finally came to rest over his mouth. A subconscious gesture of restricting speech. He shook his head.  What does he mean? All this time living under Hannibal’s care they had formed this strange relationship. A relationship so unconventional it defied a definition.

 

“I see why you never did couples counseling, Dr. Lecter. We live together. That implies some type of relationship no matter how toxic.”

 

Will’s eyes were hard and challenging when they met Hannibal’s maroon ones. He sensed that the cogs were moving inside Hannibal’s thinking.

 

“Yes, it does imply a relationship, but what kind? By your description toxic, but one could say challenging or even passionate.”

 

“Asking to define our relationship is like describing what type of serial killer the Chesapeake Ripper is, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Touché, William. Nevertheless, you once asked me to describe how I saw you. How do you see us?”

 

Will laughed like he did that first meal together.  _  Fine china. A fragile teacup.  _ The words lingered in his mind and in the air between the two men.  Will reached down to untie his muddy shoes, slipping them off. He was stalling for time.  What could he say? His relationships have been far and few between. Some mere ghosts of relationships. The majority of them brief and work related. He ran his fingers through his hair, letting his nails lightly scratch his scalp. Once he finished, he scooted up to the headboard of the bed with his legs stretched out before him.

 

“I... have no fucking clue. I know we are more than roomies,” chuckled Will. Hannibal chuckled as well. He moved up to the headboard, toeing off his shoes and stretching out. “I thought we were friends till the whole incarcerated thing.”

 

“We are still friends.”

 

Will lifted an eyebrow, side eyeing Hannibal and then shrugs his shoulders. “I think some would call us frenemies.”

 

“Not friends with benefits?”

 

Will barked out a laugh while his cheeks colored. “I thought I was old. To be friend with benefits implies you... have sex regularly.”

 

“I know what friends with benefits means, Will.”

 

“Oh…” Will coughed in his discomfort while Hannibal merely smirked. The tension weighed heavy in the room.

 

“I guess with your hobbies... it would be hard to have a serious relationship.”

 

“What... the arts?”

 

Will turned his head, looking at a smiling Hannibal with  _ you know what I mean  _ look. Will rolled his eyes, sighing, and directing his eyes away from the other.

 

“I know you are a man that is uncomfortable with a causal relationship; be it sexual or otherwise.”

 

“How... how... did we get on the topic of sex?”

 

“Isn’t everything about food and sex? Survival at the very basis of man’s instinct?”

 

“Yes... but sex involves much more. It involves a certain amount of trust.”

 

“Most of the time, but other times, when total trust is lacking, there is a sense of danger. Where there is danger, there is excitement and passion.”

 

“Certainly never a dull moment with you, that’s for sure,” Will mumbled.

 

Hannibal chuckled. Once Hannibal’s amusement faded into silence they laid there is silence for a few moments. Will listened to Hannibal’s breathing and his own heart beating. Where does he go from here? Where do they go from here? Forward, he guessed. They couldn’t go back, and if they could, would Will want that? Not really, there was so much pain in the past. Could the future be beautiful? Potentially, the future held family, if you counted Abigail as a daughter and Hannibal as a spouse.

 

Will felt a wave of fear and excitement all the way to his toes.  Maybe he should just leave again.  A lot of good that would do him.  He sighed.

 

“What are you thinking about, Will?”

 

“About leaving again.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah but… I don’t think you would let me.”

 

“You would be correct.”

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

Silence.

 

“Why don’t you shower while I finish dinner.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

Will pushed himself up with a grunt and groan as Hannibal left his room and headed to the kitchen.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> believe it or not, we are heading into the home stretch!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to emptyheart for all her time and effort in betaing this! You rock!

Water spray cascaded down Will’s body as he leaned his head into the wall, eyes closed.  It felt good to listen to the water and nothing else.  He groaned, moving reluctantly as he slowly soaped and rinsed his body.   _ Where do we go from here?  _ A question that was so simple and monumental in scope.  Relationships were always such a challenge for Will. The temporary lifestyle he and his father lived was an obstacle. Once Will would become comfortable enough to have a conversation with someone they would move. His empathy was a challenge because he knew someone better than they knew themselves within a matter of a few days or weeks after meeting them. People wouldn’t attune with him as easily.  This led to many frustrating one-sided relationships where Will gave more than he received.  As he matured, Will became very selective with whom he gave his time and energy, even if he grew lonely and touch starved.

 

Now at the ripe age of fortyish, he finds a friend, maybe companion... partner, who is as attuned to Will as he is to them but… and it’s a biggie... they are a criminal mastermind... a serial killer.  Not just any serial killer, a cannibalistic serial killer who has successfully evaded and taunted police for decades. Now wouldn’t that make any parents proud? What a catch? Will snorted, rolling his eyes. All this time he thought he was saving lives, working for the common good when he actually was trolling for a mate.  He huffed out shaking his head as a chill ran down his spine.

 

The whole turn of things was a little disconcerting. Not just the psychiatrist part or the serial killer part, that enough on its own gave him pause, but Will always loved women. Being an empath he understood why men loved other men or some people love both sexes. How connections were formed that defied a singular sexual definition. For himself, however, he was simply a heterosexual.

 

Yes, there were mommy issues galore there, as well. It was easier to navigate pursuing and being rejected by one sex to his fragile ego. He never experimented in college, like some of the people he knew.

 

Will turned off the water and opened the shower door, reaching for a towel. He dried off as he head into the bedroom. He pulled out some warm clothing.  His standard uniform, as Abigail likes to call his jeans and flannel shirt. He sat on the bed, pulling on his socks when he felt a tickle in his mind.  A memory resurfacing.  A strange feeling when something swims to the top.  It wasn’t a repressed memory or even a bad memory.

 

There was a friend of his father’s, Richard, who had a son named Robin who was three years older than Will. They would visit almost every summer. Richard and his son would travel to where he and his Dad were holed up at the time. The adults would sit and talk, while the boys were left on their own. Robin had dark eyes and dark hair. He was a foot taller than Will and extremely intelligent. At first, Robin couldn’t stand Will. He was the awkward and weird kid who trailed after the older boy.  As the years went on, they developed a close friendship, which thrilled Will. He thought the moon was hung on Robin.

 

The older boy treated him like he was Robin’s age.  They discussed anything and everything.  They wrote when they could and looked forward to their summer visits.  When Will was sixteen, they were discussing girls and sex. Robin offered to show Will a few things which Will agreed to, of course. There were no kisses exchanged and no clothing removed but there was some frottage.

 

They never discussed what happened between them physically, even though it continued a couple more years.  They lost touched when Will went to college.  He heard Robin married and had a few kids through Will’s dad.

 

Robin was Will’s first crush, possibly his first love.  Will thought it was this sweet girl named Beth, but no, it was a boy named Robin. Was he gay? Was he bi? Did it matter?

 

Will stood from the bed to hang his towel up in the bathroom. He ran a comb through his curls. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bright.  His face full of regular meals. Will’s cheeks were flushed.  He wasn’t sure if it was the shower heat or the memory of his friend.  He placed the comb down.  He sighed leaning on his hands and bending over the counter to stretch his back.  He straightened up, walking out of the bathroom looking out the door.  Will hesitated, he can’t bring himself to face Hannibal just yet.  He sat down on the bed and looked out the window.

 

This memory and realization made him feel vulnerable.  It feels like a pivotal moment in his life. He wanted to share this revelation with someone but then again he wanted to keep it all to himself.  Will hated himself because the only person he wants to tell is Hannibal. Oh, the irony! Is that love? Is that friendship? Is that co-dependence at it’s finest? Does it fucking matter anymore?

 

Normally, Will would say if you aren’t hurting anyone else, who cares? Go for it. But they do hurt other people, don’t they? They are one of those couples that hurt other people. Is there anyway Will could change that? Could Will ask Hannibal to stop and the cannibal would? It’s like asking someone to stop being themselves. Is being a cannibalistic serial killer an integral part of Hannibal or just something he does? 

 

It made it sound like a hobby.  Will shook his head as his imagination conjured up a hobby store with everything you need for the serial killer hobbyist. Will knew some killers feel a compulsion to kill. They have no control over it but Hannibal is different. Going years without killing, but is he really that patient? Could it be, he’s just that skilled at hiding his kills but not controlling his killing impulse? 

 

If Hannibal could stop, would he stop to keep Will? Could he ask that of someone? Love is a compromise.  Give and take in a relationship, so they say. Will took in a deep breath, held it and released it slowly. If he asked this then Will has to be sure he is ready to commit to Hannibal. 

 

Will felt a flutter in his chest and stomach of nervous excitement.  _ This is crazy to the next level  _ he mumbled to himself _. This is so fucked up Graham.This relationship is so toxic and...ugh!  _

 

Will threw himself back on his bed, bouncing slightly. He covered his eyes with his arm.  The desire to kick his legs and arms around like a toddler in a tantrum was tantalizing; instead, Will laid there chewing his lips. 

 

_ It’s toxic dysfunctional and dark but it’s the most loving and stable relationship I’ve ever had. My life is a cosmic joke. I’ve never been normal. I’ve never had normal... be it family, friends, relationships, thoughts... so who cares... if it works for me... why feel guilty, shameful, bad about it?  _

 

Will sat up listened to Hannibal move around the kitchen. The last few months he knew when Hannibal  was finished with plating dinner just by listening to his movement in the  kitchen.  He rubbed his face. They were already so domestic as it was... why not take the leap off the cliff into the sea of the unknown? 

 

Will jumped when he heard a soft knock on his door.

 

“Dinner.”

 

“Coming.”

 

He took a deep breath and headed out to the dining room. Hannibal placed the dishes of food on the table. Will looked at Hannibal perplexed.

 

“This is different.”

 

“I thought something less formal. I think this is called…”

 

“Family style serving.”

 

Will smiled, taking his seat and looking up to see an amused Hannibal.

 

“What?” 

 

Will chuckled as he grabbed the plate of mystery meat.  It looked like beef but was it really?

 

“The little things make you extremely happy.”

 

“What can I say? I am simple.”

Will handed the meat to Hannibal as he picked up another dish.

 

“I don’t know if I would characterize you as simple, Will. I think you are a complex person who wants a simple life.”

 

“Sometimes simple is good.  Simple is easy to keep things together especially when...”

 

“When you have so much in your head?”

 

Will smiled, shrugging his shoulder and handing the next dish to Hannibal.  He grabbed a couple of rolls from a basket.  Hannibal tsked playfully at him.

 

“Sorry about my border house reach there.”

 

“I suppose this once I can overlook it.”

 

They ate in companionable silence, Will’s eyes drifting over to Hannibal often.  His new self-discovery perched on the edge of his tongue.  He needed to keep it in check.  It wouldn’t do to disclose this new self-awareness too soon to Hannibal.  Will didn’t trust what Hannibal would do with the information. That hesitation of thought and action swept his momentary domestic bliss under the rug.  Hannibal must have sensed a change in Will’s mood.

 

“Something the matter?”

 

“I guess we need to talk.”

 

“About?”

 

“About us. Our situation.”

 

Will placed his fork down, his attention focused on Hannibal.  Hannibal nodded.

 

“Are we through with dinner?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Then so am I.  Let’s put this away and settle in the study?”

 

Will nodded, sliding out his seat and grabbing his plate.

* * *

 

  
They settled in front of the fire.  Will was silent and Hannibal waited patiently.  Will blinked, pulling himself out of his head.

 

“I need to deal with my feelings about you and our past.”

 

“I am listening.”

 

“I don’t know where to begin,” Will sighed adjusted in his seat.  It was comfortable a few moments ago.  He took a gulp of his whiskey.

 

“Why don’t you start with how you are feeling now.”

 

Will chuckled.  The more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

“I feel a change coming. It’s an anticipation.  A view of the fall to come that has me dreading and eagerly wanting it to happen.”

 

“What kind of change?”

 

Hannibal tilted his head. His eyes hungered for Will’s banquet of emotions.

 

“Our relationship.  Something has to change.  This middle is unsatisfying.  I know it is to you.”

 

Will looked pointedly to Hannibal who smiled, not bothered by the revelation. Hannibal straightened his shirt sleeves with a twist and looked at the cuff before he said anything.

 

“I am. I am patient.  I could wait longer than most men, but yes, the in between is tedious.”

 

“If you are willing to wait, what else are you willing to do?”

 

Hannibal resettled himself. _ Could Hannibal be uncomfortable?  _ Will thought to himself.  It wasn’t often Will made Hannibal squirm.  Hannibal’s eyes fell back to the fire in contemplation.

 

“Something about that question bothers you, Dr. Lecter?”

 

“It seems like a loaded question.”

 

“Do you think I am wearing a wire, for God’s sake? That Jack and I have cooked up a plan to lure you to Alaska, for me to have a heart attack and then... then... pounce and have you confess to the Ripper murders?”

 

Will’s expression was one of pure exasperation and indignation.  He blew a huge puff of air before he gave a short bark of a laugh.

 

“I am too old for this shit… let me make this easy for you Hannibal.  Jesus... you are such a prima donna... I know what you are and what you do. I don’t give a flying fuck about your past murders... I have no desire to work for Jack... I just want… ”  Will sighed a sigh of long-suffering.  He leaned forward in earnest.

 

“If you understand nothing else in this moment understand this. I want peace... with myself... with you... with where I live... with my work... I don’t give a flying fuck about Jack... or going back into the field... or what your past murders and cannibalism…”

 

Hannibal’s head turned toward Will.  His lips pursed in irritation as Will rolled his eyes.

 

“You can call it want…”

 

“It’s not what you call it… it’s the fact…”

 

Will laughed before placing a hand over his mouth when Hannibal turned his attention back to the fireplace.  He looked like a pouting feline in that moment.  Will lowered his hand.

 

“Sorry... you're mad because I said I didn’t care about them? Is your artist ego bruised? Do you wanna kiss to make it better?”

 

“Being a condescending shit does you no favors, Will.”

 

Laughter erupted from Will where he actually held his stomach.  He caught Hannibal chuckling along, but Will knew he would deny it till the very end.

 

“Okay... Okay... sorry...”

 

“Please don’t have another heart attack on my account.”

 

“I’ll try not to... now, where was I?”

 

“Not caring about my past.”

 

“Ah yes…” Will cleared his throat around his smile and wiped his cheeks of tears. Will looked at his wet fingertips and rubbed them together. “You know that’s the first time I think you’ve caused me to wipe away tears of laughter instead of pain.”

 

“Something I regret.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Yes.”

“You act as if you don’t believe me.”

 

“I must admit I am skeptical that you can feel something like regret or guilt or...love even.”

 

Will got up walking over to where the whiskey sits in its decanter. He poured a small amount fully aware Hannibal was watching him. Will needed something to do while his words sunk into Hannibal’s mind.With a drink in hand, he returned to his perch.Hannibal waited till he settled before he spoke.

 

“I am capable of those emotions. Maybe not to the degree or the intensity as someone like you.”

 

“Well, very few experience feelings like I do.”

 

“That’s very true. You are unique, not an accurate ruler for that comparison.  Nevertheless, I do feel those emotions.You cannot help who you fall in love with.”

 

Will felt like ice water was poured into his veins. He looked at Hannibal. The man was as vulnerable as Hannibal could ever be to Will.  There was no deception, just blunt honesty. Hannibal blinked that slow feline blink. Will swallowed and then coughed when it went down the wrong way. Once it subsided, he looked intently into Hannibal’s eyes.

 

“Are you saying you are in love with me, Hannibal?”

 

“Do I gain nourishment from the sight of you? Yes. How does that make you feel?”

 

“I...um...I...am overwhelmed. That’s something I never considered before.”

 

“That you would be loved or that I would love you?”

 

Will looked at their reflection in the large picture window of the study. He felt like his reality was tipped to the side. But was he really surprised by this turn of events? This confession? Some part of him knew Hannibal did love him. It was confirmed when Hannibal followed him here to Alaska. There were plenty of new people to torture and manipulate in Baltimore, right? To do all this...the private p.i., buying the town, taking care of Will when he was ill...this was beyond obsessive and possessive, wasn’t it? Even a stalker had their limits. Will rubbed his finger over his lips as he thought.

 

This was Hannibal Lecter, the Chesapeake Ripper, the most cunning and prolific serial killer of the century. There was no defining him or placing into a category because Hannibal was an entity unto himself.  _ What had Will gotten himself into? No, more accurately, what had Jack Crawford pulled him into? _ Now there is someone he could kill with his bare hands, Will thought to himself. That was the past, Will’s future was waiting for an answer.

 

“I think both really.”

 

“Dear Will. I think one of the reasons I am drawn to you is that you never see yourself as you truly are. I feel like I have discovered something so sublime that the world will never understand it.”

 

Will just looked at Hannibal because what could he say to that? He sighed. This was too much to process.

 

“You looked overwhelmed.”

 

Will chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Here I thought we would have a simple conversation about… oh, I don’t know... boundaries...expectations in relationship...if you could stop killing and eating people indefinitely... Just your normal everyday convo. But nope...you brought the whole love issue into it...so now I am off track.”

 

“Do you want to discuss killing and eating, Will?” Hannibal smiled as he steepled his fingertips together.

 

“Not as much you do apparently. I don’t have the appetite for it like you do.”

 

“Do you think your appetite could change?”

 

Will picked up the crystal glass of whiskey and slid it across his forehead before he took a sip. He sighed, placing the glass down.

 

“I think you know the answer to that question.”

 

A brief smile from Hannibal as he laced his fingers leaned back in his seat. He waited for Will to continue.

 

“Do you think you could stop?” countered Will.

 

“The possibility crossed my mind. As I have matured, the urge is not as pressing as it once was, but there is something about the feeling...the vitality it brings to me...that I am not sure I could totally give up.”

 

Honest. This is one of the most honest conversations he and Hannibal have ever had, thought Will. It was thrilling and strangeling, arousing in Will’s power to draw this out of the elusive man. 

 

“What do you want from this, Will?”

 

Will chuckled. “In my misspent youth, I chased normalcy. I joined the police force. Then caught some bad guys and moved up the ranks. After that, I joined the FBI to catch the really bad guys. Along the way, I tried to have normal relationships with normal women who wanted normal— kids, two cars, and a little house.  All of which I was not normal enough to pull off. So I adopted seven dogs.” Will rolled his eyes, “Who became my family and friends. Now in my ripe old age, I am looking for…” Will let out a deep sigh.

 

It’s funny how little Will knew his own feelings right up into the moment that he did. He wanted to be content and at peace with himself. Will wanted someone who was just as broken and put back together as he was, who Will could tolerate being around without the urge to smack the hell out of them or leave the room. Maybe, that person could even tolerate, maybe even enjoy being around Will. He wanted a connection that was intellectual, emotional and physical. Will wasn’t picky, he would take any of the three but if Will found all three, well then he was set. How often did that happen to people, especially for people like him and Hannibal? Their lives were meant for loneliness unless by fate they found another kindred spirit. Totally alike in their differences. It sounded like a commercial slogan or a wall poster.

 

Blue eyes met deep red ones before Will spoke. “You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?”

 

Hannibal smiled broadly.

 

Will laughed. “Of course you are, no breaks for Will. For you Hannibal. We matched...we mesh together well...in a parallel universe...we may even have had a normal relationship where we like, dated and married instead of…a courtship of blood and betrayal.”

 

“Yes, but what fun would that have been? Ours is so much more exciting.”

 

“That’s one way of describing it. I think a more accurate word would be psychotic.”

 

“To each his own version of events.” 

 

Will snorted into his glass as he tipped it back to gulp the rest of the whiskey. Pleased with the way Hannibal’s feathers ruffled at the rude sound. 

 

“You haven’t answered my question, Will.”

 

Hannibal sent back a smug volley of his own when Will grimaced at the reminder.

 

“I want...I can’t believe I am even saying this...I want us to try ...being in a relationship.”

 

“We are already in one.”

 

“Jesus, Hannibal. You know what I mean.”

 

“You’ll need to be more specific. We have a relationship as friends and colleagues. Besides sometimes...my English...is lacking.”

 

Will stared at Hannibal, mouth in a tight line.

 

“Really. English is my twentieth language excuse? You speak and understand better English than I do.” Will shook his head and watched Hannibal tilt his head. “Sadist. Fine...a romantic relationship. Is that want you want to hear?” Will growled out, both feet on the ground ready to leave the room or fight.

 

“Do you want to fuck?”

 

Will jumped to his feet, hands balled into fists.

 

“That’s it! I am going to bed if you wanna play games!” 

He stomped to the library door as his temper got the better of him. Suddenly, his back hit the wall and Hannibal held him by the shoulders laughing. Will felt heat burn across his face.

 

“Get your fucking hands off me you son o’ bitch! I am warning you, Hannibal!”

 

“Shhh...shhh...” Hannibal pressed harder on his shoulders as he maneuvered his head and legs away from Will’s onslaught of blows from his feet and head.

 

“Don’t shush me!”

 

“I’m sorry. I apologize. I just...couldn’t resist...as you say so often... “messing” with you,” Hannibal said with a smile. Will felt the tension drop from his shoulders and smiled in return, letting out a small laugh.

 

Will slumped in surrender in Hannibal’s hold. He released Will and took a step back,  crossing his arms over his chest and cocking a barely there eyebrow.

 

“So do you?”

 

Will growled. If Hannibal wanted to play for a reaction, by God, Will would give him one. He surged forward, grabbed Hannibal by the back of the neck and cupped his cheek, placing his chapped lips over Hannibal’s. Hannibal froze, caught off guard, but then relaxed into the kiss. As soon as he did Will released him smiling mischievously. 

 

“What do you think, Hanni?”

 

“You never cease to amaze and surprise me, Will. Don’t call me Hanni.”

 

Will cocked an eyebrow. “I can’t call you Hanni? How about love muffin? Cannibal stud? That too obvious? OH...Oh...I know…”

 

Hannibal snared Will into his arms, stifling his words and then his laughter with kisses that became more intimate before all the pet names left Will’s thoughts. They pulled apart panting. Hannibal pulled Will back to the couch in front of the fire. They sat close, at first awkwardly, well Will was, then they relaxed. Will felt content for the first time in a long time.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! There it is guys finished! For those few faithful followers...Bless your Hearts! You have stuck with  
> this story through thick and thin...quick updates and loooooonnng overdue updates. It means a great deal to me! Really! All the comments, kudos and follows kept this little train fic a chugging away. I appreciate all the support! Thanks!!
> 
> I may at a later date post an epilogue or a one shot of life after....don't know when... but it's a thought I may explore one day!


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